Back from hell
by Nico.Slade
Summary: A young Chipmunk, Alvin, volunteers to be a part of a secret program designed to train boys to be operatives for the government. Along the way, his life moves from training to real life scenarios and dangers. But can his family accept his past or will it haunt him
1. Chapter 1

Back from hell

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 1 – Familiar face

It had been years since my disappearance, surprisingly nobody hounded me when I came back with a few fractured ribs, a broken arm and a cross scar on my face that stood against my fur. I refused to talk about what happened during those years I was gone.

It was period four, math which is my most hated subject even though I was no longer failing like I was before. I sighed as I scribbled down notes about fractions and percentages but I almost snapped the pencil when I heard his voice

"Class this Alexander, he's from Russia so I expect you to make his feel welcome" the teacher say, his tone brash and bored

The new student was a light brown furred chipmunk, wearing a pale blue polo shirt and brown cargo pants. I couldn't get a clear view of his face; I did notice the obvious lime green eyes the boy possessed

'It couldn't be him, could it?' I thought to myself as the boy took a seat within my field of vision

"Not a problem ser, I'll find a place to sit" I heard the boy say his accent easy for me to tell was fake

"Good now eye's to the board people" the teacher said as he began his lesson once more

I eyed the boy intensely, his identity a mystery until he turned his head and revealed a cross scar on his cheek. That's when I knew who it was, I must have been staring too intensely because the bell went before I even knew it. I followed him into the corridor; I smirked as I yelled out to him

"Oi Pipsqueak" I yelled out to him, causing him to freeze in place

"Who you calling a Pipsqueak" he yells as he turns but too blinded by anger to see my fist hitting him

He growled as he stumbled back, he attacked using a standard fighting technique which was a rookie move. I stopped his attacks without even an ounce of hesitation, countering with a well-placed hit to a nerve in his right arm. He smirked at me, even without use of his right arm, his style switched almost instantly. I almost couldn't block all his attacks; with one hit to the side of the head dazed him. I forced him up against a locker, my arm at his throat but I smiled

"Hello Seth" I said, my face an inch from his

"Hello Grasshopper" he said with a chuckle, pulling his face the final inch to kiss me

I kissed him with an untapped passion, crashing his lips to mine which he accepted willingly. My grip tightened on him as the kiss deepened, I didn't care that I tasted blood from my split lip and hell I missed tasting the coppery taste. I heard a round of gasp from the people that stopped to witness the fight but they quickly scattered when I gave them a deathly glare.

"Come meet my family" I said guiding him to my usual table in the cafeteria

I heard a round of gasp from the gang, probably due to my dishevelled state. I was beaming happily, which caused them to smile as well even though my state was concerning to them. I pulled Seth next to me and they smiled at the new chipmunk

"You're the new munk in my science class, alexander right?" Simon asked, casting a protective glare obviously for me and my safety

"Not quite, Seth Adams" Seth introduced himself, getting him a round of confused looks

"I knew Seth during the Six years I was gone, that reminds me you might want this back" I said, taking the silver ring from around my neck. The ring sat on a thick black cord.

"I missed you babe" he said, kissing me as he slipped the ring onto his left ring finger

"I missed you too" I responded but was interrupted by Simon storming over

"Why you son of a….." Simon yelled but stopped when I grabbed him, placing a combat knife to his neck out of instinct

"Still as paranoid, grasshopper?" He chuckled, causing me to blush

"I'm sorry Simon but it was instinct" I said, still blushing

"Who is he?" Simon seethed out, stepping back

"I'll explain after school but all you need to know now is that he's my husband" I said with a sigh, walking off when the bell went with Seth hand in hand. Leaving a group of confused chipmunks and Chippettes in my wake

* * *

After school

I called everyone into the living room, I sat with Seth cuddled close to me. I saw everyone walk in, confusion evident on their face but Dave's more than anyone's. I took a deep breath, squeezing Seth's hand for support

"Dave, everyone this is Seth I knew him the six years I was gone" I began, they all nodded patiently because this is the first time I have spoken of what happened

"I'm his husband" Seth said bluntly, once again shocking everyone

"Before you go off at me, I didn't tell you about him because I honestly thought her was dead but I should probably explain" I said, putting my hands up in defence

"Please explain Alvin, we are all worried" Dave said with a note of concern

"I'm a part of a secret government organisation that doesn't exist for all intents and purposes" I said with a completely serious face that told them I wasn't lying

"W… What did you do there?" Simon asked me

"Mostly I was charged with removing unwanted people from seats of power or other things as such but I got out" I said, trying to calm them "It started like this"

* * *

Cliff hanger there but don't worry I'll try and update and tell me in your reviews if you want me to update something I've already written


	2. The begining

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 2- The beginning

The last thing I remember was saying yes to save my country and the world. Next thing I know I'm in a room with a group of boys, two men stood up. One of the men began to speak

"Boys, I'm Mr Travers" he began, "this is Mr. Jones. He's here to talk to you and then give you a test."

All of us groaned. Just what we wanted; another test. If there was something we could all agree on, it was that we didn't want more school.

"It won't be that bad, boys," he said to our complaints. He stepped aside to allow this Mr. Jones to step forward to talk to us.

"Good morning. This won't take a lot of your time. I remember when I was your age I wanted summer vacation to last forever. But, since it doesn't I'll be quick.

"The test I'm going to give you will test your intelligence and aptitude for learning. It will also test your personality. We're looking for some special boys to work for us."

"Work for you? How?" It was one of the older boys; Greg, I think.

"Well, first, there will be training, and then the job. I can't go into everything because it's top secret and only a few people will know about it. But, it will be different than anything else you've ever done. But, we have to see if you're able to do it at all.

"If you have what we're looking for, then we'll talk some more."

With that being said, he handed out the tests to all of us. I don't remember too much about the test, but I do remember the first question.

"If your best friend was beaten up by bullies, what would you do?" The choices were,

A. Tell someone what happened.

B. Get revenge yourself.

C. Just comfort your friend.

D. None of the above.

I remember marking "B" with a smile. After that first one, I paid attention to the rest of them. The first ten questions were like that, asking what I would do in certain situations or problems. The next ten asked about how I felt about our country. The third ten questions were questions about other countries. This was unlike any other test I'd taken. I read them and answered them as honestly and as best as I could.

I put my name on it at the top and handed it in to Mr. Jones. I was one of the last ones finished. Usually, I'm the first one done because I didn't care about the answers. I left the room, thinking I'd probably sucked at it, as usual, as well. From the testing room, I went to the common area to play some games or something with one of the others. About an hour or so later, Mr. Travers walked in.

"Alvin Seville?" he asked the room. I turned towards him "Please follow me"

He motioned for me to follow him and I did. I was wondering if I'd done something wrong or if it was about the test. I got my answer as we walked back into the room with Mr. Jones in it. Mr. Travers indicated for me to sit into a chair, and I did. From there, he left me alone with the stranger.

"Well," he began, "I'd like to talk to you about your test results, Alvin."

"I did well on it?"

"You did well enough for me to talk to you. The others didn't seem like it was all that important. Why did you?"

"I dunno," I said, shrugging, "I just kind of liked the questions."

"I see." He sat there on the table in front of me, sort of sizing me up, I guess. After a few minutes or so, I began to get a little apprehensive under his scrutiny. Finally, he spoke.

"If I tell you what we have in mind, do you think you can keep it to yourself no matter what?" He asked and I nodded. "Even if you don't want to do this, I will expect you to not say a word; ever."

"Why?" He now had my undivided attention. No one had ever confided with me about anything.

"Because there are lives at stake, Alvin."

I was a little stunned at that one. How could lives be in danger if I say something to someone about a test I took? At any rate, I nodded that I would keep it quiet.

"Good. Now, what I am offering to you is a job, but it's a dangerous one. One that can get you killed or worse."

"Worse than dying?" I thought death would be the absolute worse thing that could happen to someone. So what could be worse than that? "What's worse than dying?"

"Dying badly."

"Huh?"

"Someone making your death a long, painful one. There are people in this world, Seth, that live only to hurt people. Some people want to kill, while others just want to hurt something. If you do this, you'll probably meet both.

"Don't worry about too much of that, because we can train you to deal with whatever comes your way." I was looking very sceptical at him; I guess that was why he threw that in.

"What's in it for me?"

"I was wondering if or when you were going to ask that," he said, apparently impressed. "If you do this, you'll be trained to handle anything that this world can throw at you and handle it on your own.

"As far as what we're offering you, well, it'll be a lot of money; half a million dollars, to be exact."

My eyes bugged out of their sockets. I knew how much that was, and I knew it was a lot of money. I took a deep breath to remember some questions I had.

"How long would I have to do this?"

"The training is long, and I'll only tell you how long when the time's right. As far as the mission itself; probably in the neighbourhood of about four to five years. Only for as long as you're useful."

"Just exactly what AM I going to be doing?"

"That's another question that I can't answer right now, but I will tell you when the time's right. All I can tell you beyond this is this; you'll be making a difference in people's lives."

I sat there thinking about what he'd just said. Some of it scared me, but some of it I liked; mainly that I'd be doing something with my life.

"It's your choice, Alvin. You can either make a difference or Go back and live a boring life."

What he said made sense, but was it enough? I had to bring something back down to my level of thinking.

"It's dangerous?"

"Very."

I nodded in return. What was I going to do? I certainly hated the orphanage, but doing something that could get me killed or badly hurt was not something I looked forward to doing.

"Can I think about it?"

"I want your answer by tomorrow morning," he said, nodding. He handed me a card with a phone number and room number on the back.

I turned and left the room. One of the younger ones asked me what it was all about, and I told him it was nothing important. That night, I lay in my bed, thinking about what Mr. Jones, if that was his name, told me. I also thought about Dave and my brothers.

"I guess it wouldn't be too bad," I told myself as I fell asleep.

I woke up and called the number on the card. Jones answered it and after I told him I was interested, he said that he would be picking me up in half an hour.

"I'll be ready," I said after taking a deep breath to reassure myself.

He arrived and I had a bag of clothes with me. I was packed up ready to go. He gave me a strange look when he saw the bag, but didn't say anything about it. Jones shook hands with Mr. Travers and we were gone. Leaving my family behind.

"Where are we going?" I asked, once we were on the flight.

"I have to make a stop in Dallas to pick up one more kid your age. From there, we head to Virginia."

"And then what?"

"Training, Alvin, plenty of training."

I took that to mean the discussion was over. I sat in the seat naturally curious about what was going to happen to me once we got to our destination, but didn't ask any more questions. The flight took about three hours or so and we landed in Dallas close to noon.

Jones led me through the airport to the next terminal where a man with another kid was waiting. The kid was about my size, just about an inch [2½ cm] taller than me, slim, with sort of dark blond hair, but with the greenest eyes ever. I wasn't one to like other guys, but his eyes sort of attracted me to him. Jones nodded to the man and he left.

"Alvin, this is Alex Branson," Jones said, and introduced him to me as well. We just simply nodded to each other.

We had about an hour before our next flight took off, so after we got something to eat, we just sat in the terminal to wait. Finally, we were called on and we left the DFW airport for Virginia. Alex and I didn't say much to each other along the way. He seemed to just want to stare out the window. I picked up a book and read the whole way.

When we landed, it was raining. What I didn't know, was that it rained a lot in this area of the country. A government car was there waiting for us and as Jones got in the front seat, Alex and I climbed into the back seat for the ride. A quiet hour's ride later, we pulled up to a small building where we were unloaded and led inside. Jones said that our bags would be brought to us later.

Alex and I walked in and I took in our surroundings. It was just a small, one room place with a bathroom at the far end and some beds along the wall. Nothing really remarkable about it. There were ten other boys there in the room, milling about, playing games, and watching television. They didn't pay us any mind when we first entered. Jones cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Boys!"

All of them stopped what they were doing and turned toward us. I was praying that he wouldn't introduce us to them; I always hated being the centre of attention. Thankfully, he didn't.

"I need you boys to get into a single file behind Alvin and Alex, and then all of you follow me out," he told them.

We stood there as the others filed towards us. They seemed like typical kids around my age, but one stood out like a sore thumb. This kid was big; bigger than the rest of us. I wondered how old this one was, and if he'd repeated any school grades. He didn't seem all that intelligent, but he was here. All the others were different in some ways; there was a black kid, and an Oriental one, but the rest of us were white. Most of us were slim, excluding the bigger kid, and one other one that was just plain fat.

Jones turned and led us out a door to the right and onto one of those buses for the Special Ed kids, but this one had its windows blackened over. Alex led the way and, since we sort of knew each other, we shared a seat. As there were only a total of six seats, everyone had to share one. The fat kid sat with the Oriental one, and the brute of a kid shared a seat with another skinny kid that didn't seem all too pleased with the idea.

Another man walked onto the bus, closed the door, and took his seat behind the wheel. We were off within minutes. As we couldn't see out the windows, or really where we were going, all twelve of us just sat in the seats. The ride didn't take long, but peace among twelve boys doing nothing couldn't last.

"Stop it," a whining voice said from behind me.

Everyone turned to see the big brute messing with the smaller one next to him. The smaller kid was trying to get away from the bully.

"Knock it off, Edward," Jones said from the front.

"Edward?" the black kid asked, mockingly. The others, including myself, also scoffed at his name; it just didn't seem to fit him.

"Yeah, 'Edward'," he said, threateningly. "But everyone calls me 'Bull'."

"Well, that definitely fits," another kid remarked.

Bull got up, looking like he was going to pound the kid, but sat back down once he saw the look on Jones's face. He resumed his seat, but didn't bother anyone else for the duration of the short journey.

The bus pulled up to another building, but this one was bigger; much bigger. I could tell from the outside that it was two stories tall, but I found out later that it had an underground level as well. The bus stopped right next to it, under an awning of some sort. Jones exited the bus, motioning us to follow him again.

We walked behind him in single-file, with Bull bringing up the rear. The first thing I saw upon going into the building was a simple hallway. Jones turned left and we followed him to an open room. Once we were all inside, he began talking to us.

"Okay, do you all see this line on the floor?" he asked. I looked down at his feet and there was a black line stretched out in front of him. I nodded and so did the others. I was sure Bull didn't, but he could see it as plainly as the rest of us, however slow he was.

"Good. When I call your name, I want you to line up on that line." That seemed simple enough.

"Alvin Seville." I moved to stand on the line all the way to the right.

"Alexander Branson." Alex stepped forward and stood next to me.

"Leon Coker." The black kid walked up and stood next to Alex. He was fairly slim with the black hair and brown eyes indicative of his race. I found him nice, but seemed to have a chip on his shoulder about some things for most of the time we were there.

"Michael Foster." A brown haired kid with freckles on his face stepped forward to stand next to Leon. He seemed quiet and shy. I kind of wondered why he was here at all. He didn't seem the type that would've answered the questions correctly.

"James Hostetler." Another brown haired kid stepped forward, standing next to Mike. This one was cocky. I could tell by the way he walked. I scowled a little at him. I always hated those types of people.

"Philip Keller." A black haired boy stepped out and lined up. I couldn't tell much from him at that time, other than he was pretty much normal.

"Remington Kelsey." Now, there was a weird name. Remmie, as he liked to be called, was dirty-blond with blue eyes. Just like the rest of us so far, he was also slim, with an angular face. He seemed to have lost the baby fat that the rest of us were still hanging on to.

"Scott Nelson." Scott was the fat kid. He was a year older than me, but probably doubles my weight. His brown hair was a little wavy, but it was his bulk that made him stand out the most.

"Edward Ransom." Bull stepped out of the remaining four and took his place next to Scott. It elicited another scowl from me, but this time, I wasn't alone.

"Seth Addams." Seth wasn't happy about this, as he was the one that Bull was messing with on the bus ride over there. And standing next to his would-be tormentor was something that he didn't exactly relish.

"Benjamin Young." Ben stood out because of his red hair and more freckles than I could count. Not that I wanted to, but they were there. He also had green eyes, matching Alex's. Very Christmas-y.

"Jeffery Yung." Jeff was the Oriental boy. He was small, even for his age, but even as he walked forward, I thought that he had something special. It wasn't the way he walked; it was more the way he watched the rest of us when he walked up to the line. It was like he was doing the same thing I was; sizing everyone else up. I put it in the back of my mind to be mindful of him.

"Okay," Jones said once we were all in line, "this is our group. Whenever I, or someone else, tells you to line up, this is the placing. So, look to your right and left, and remember that." We did. Mine was easy; all the way to the right. "Also, when you're told to line up, always do it with your heads up, shoulders straight, feet shoulder-width apart, and hands behind your back. If you don't do it that way, you'll receive a demerit."

"What's a demerit?" Someone asked.

"I will explain merits and demerits later, James," Jones told him. "Right now, though, just know that you want as few demerits as possible.

"Now, when I tell you to turn and follow me, I expect you to turn in the direction I'm facing at the time and file out; single-file. One of those demerits will be given if you get out of line, so don't." He turned to his left, our right, and told us to follow him. And, like the good little automatons we were becoming, we did.

"From here, you have to go through a physical with the doctor and the rest of your in-processing," he told us as we left the room. Jones led us down another hallway to a door. On the door was a person's name; Dr. Wells.

"All of you are to stand against this wall until called into the office."

I was wondering if he was going to leave us to our own vices, but I suppose he knew boys way too well, and didn't. It was something I wondered about, though. He knocked on the door a second later, and when it opened, a boy a little older than me opened it.

I was shocked, but it wasn't because another kid was there; it was because of the way he was dressed. Or not dressed, rather. All he was wearing was a dog's collar and a thin smile. No hair was on his head, or anywhere else for that matter. He had the bluest eyes, I'd ever seen, too. I looked him up and down a little to see the rest of him. His dick was shrivelled up to less than an inch [2½ cm] long, and no testicles that I could see. I gulped, thinking that this was what they had in mind for all of us, not that I cared about the rest of them, but I did like my own jewels just the way they were.

"Go on inside, Alvin, and do as the doctor tells you," Jones told me.

"Is he going to do that to me?" I asked, pointing to the kid's genitalia.

"No, she is not. You'll find out when you get in there. Now, go, or get a demerit."

* * *

Here is chapter two and there is a lot more to go so enjoy


	3. Processing and Training

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 3— Processing and training

I still didn't know what a demerit was, but by Jones's tone and warning, I was sure that I didn't want one. The kid backed away from the door and I walked inside, still staring at him in shock/horror. The female doctor was sitting at the desk and turned when the door was closed.

"Name, boy?" she asked. I was assuming she was talking to me, as she probably knew the other kid's name. If he even had one.

"Alvin Seville " I answered, still looking at the naked near-eunuch next to me.

"Never mind my boy, Alvin, just pay attention to me," she said with significant authority.

I finally pealed my eyes away from the other kid to look at her. She nodded her approval to me. I tried smiling back, but failed.

"Age?"

"I turned eight this past January." She wrote down the information, then turned back to me.

"Now, take off your clothes and give them to him," she said simply, as if she has said this every day of her life. Meanwhile, I was stunned.

"All of them?"

"Yes, all of them," she said, smirking. "Now, do as I tell you, or I'll have Agent Jones come in here and strip you himself."

I shook my head, no, and began removing my shoes. They were nasty, dirty shoes, as well as my socks, but they were my only ones. I kicked out of each and then handed them to the older kid. I tried to just concentrate on what I was doing, and not him again. My shirt came next, baring my chest and torso to the room. I took a deep breath and undid my jeans, slowly pealing them down my legs. I stood up, looking at her after handing them to the boy.

"Those too," she said, pointing to my underpants.

I thought about arguing, but decided against it. Warily, I hooked my thumbs inside the waistband and lowered them down my legs. After handing them to the equally naked kid next to me, I covered my own bare groin.

"Oh, don't be so bashful, Alvin. I am a doctor, and I've seen plenty of youths in my day." She seemed pleasant, but had a look of dominance about her. "Now, put your hands behind your back, as you've been taught, and step up on the scale."

Her boy had disappeared with my clothes during that little speech. I turned back to look at her after he was gone.

"Don't worry about your clothes. You won't need them anymore."

"What?!"

"Watch your tone of voice, boy!" she growled. I shut up, thinking that it wouldn't be a good idea to piss her off. I nodded shyly back to her and she lightened up a little. "You don't need to worry about clothes. I know Agent Jones hasn't told you yet, but you won't be needing them from here on."

"No clothes?"

"What kind of training was this?" I thought to myself.

"Nope," she said with a slight smile. "Now, please get up on the scale, as I asked you." The pleasant manner tried to hide that this wasn't a request, and I figured that.

So, I stepped up on the scale and placed my hands behind my back. For some reason or other, my dick got as hard as a rock. Embarrassment flushed my face as I knew she could see the damn thing sticking straight out. But, to her credit, she didn't say a word.

Her 'boy' walked back inside and took a clipboard from her desk. She stood, pulled on a rubber glove and walked over to me and the scale. She manipulated the scales and began dictating things to him and walking around me, inspecting me.

"Height; 9 inches [1.24 m]. Weight; 55 lbs. [25 kg]. Fur; auburn, spiked. Eyes; hazel. No freckles. Scar on back-right shoulder blade. Scar on right shoulder. Bone structure; good." From there, she grabbed my dick, now deflated, and pulled it out with a ruler next to it. Embarrassment re-flooded through me; no one else had ever touched that thing before. "Penis; 2¾ inches [7 cm]." Wasn't sure how to take that, but she plugged onward with my nuts next. "Testicles; normal." Thankfully

"Butt; cute," she said from behind me. The boy scribbled something on the paper. I turned to look at her and she was smiling at me again. "Scratch that last one." She then turned her attentions back to me as the kid scratched out what he'd wrote.

"Well, you're fairly normal, Alvin" she said, giving me a nice smile.

"Can I get dressed, now?" I asked, trying to cover my embarrassment a little.

"No, and don't ask again," she answered, smile disappearing. "Agent Jones will explain everything to you later." I nodded and sighed. "Now, hop up on the table."

I moved towards the table and sat down. She checked my reflexes, relaying the results to the kid, and then other parts of my body. Teeth were examined, along with eyes, nose, throat, and ears. All were present and accounted for.

She went to a tray and took a needle. She filled it from a vial of clear liquid and then turned back to me. I moved away from both her and that needle.

"What's that?"

"A shot. You'll get one every other week."

"Yeah, I can see that. What's in it?"

"Vitamins."

"Can't I just take a vitamin pill?"

"Oh, just be quiet and show me how brave you are." With that, she grabbed my left arm and stuck the thing into the meat of my shoulder. It hurt, of course, but wasn't too bad. "Now, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Horrible," I countered. She smirked back.

"Now, I need you to climb up on this fully and get on your hands and knees."

I was about to question her, but decided against it. So, I moved my legs around to kneel on the table. A minute later, a cool, slick feeling went between my buttcheeks. I turned around just in time to see her middle finger begin to push inside my anal cavity.

"Whoa, wait; what're you doing?" I asked quickly, trying to move away from her invading finger. She quickly grabbed my back right at the curve of the spine and pushed hard inside me. "AAaagh!"

"Oh, stop being a baby, Alvin," she scolded. I settled down a little once her finger had made it all the way inside. "As to what I'm doing; I'm checking your prostate gland."

I felt her finger work itself around my insides for a few seconds. She then told her boy that everything was in working order, and then her finger was removed. That was humiliating, but what came next was just as bad.

She brought over a pole on wheels with a solution in a bag hanging from the top. She walked up beside me and began pushing the open end of the tube into my butt. She forced my legs open wider as I knelt there, in utter embarrassment again, trying to get something even larger to fit inside my rectum. I grunted out in pain as whatever it was, was finally pushed into it. A moment later, I felt liquid begin to fill the space that was usually held in reserve for something my body wanted to get rid of.

"Don't move until I tell you to. This is an enema, Alvin. It'll cleanse out your insides." I certainly didn't like the sound of that, but I nodded, nonetheless. I didn't think my insides needed cleansing.

"NEXT," she said to the door.

More humiliation hit me as Alex walked inside and saw me naked, on all-fours on a table, and with a tube stuck up my butt. He froze as he saw me.

"Never mind him, boy," she scolded.

Alex turned and saw her 'boy' and froze again. It was almost comical. He was probably thinking the same thing I was earlier.

"And don't mind him either," she repeated as she resumed her place at the desk. "Now, what's your name?"

"Alex Branson," he answered, still perplexed at all that he'd seen. She wrote down his name on the piece of paper as she'd done with me a few minutes ago.

"Age?"

"Eight."

"Alright, Alex, I need you to strip off your clothes and hand them to my boy," she said just like before to me. It was like a routine with her; nothing out of the ordinary.

Alex gulped, but began doing as she said. I think Agent Jones must have put some fear into them in the hallway while I was going through my inspection in here. Once he was nude, her eunuch left with the clothes, but was back in a flash. The doctor had Alex step up on the scales while the boy was gone.

"Height; 50 inches [1.27 m] Weight; 54 lbs. [24½ kg] Hair; dark blond, straight. Eyes; green. No freckles." She took some time, but found no scars on his body. "Brown birthmark on left buttock. Bone structure; good." Just like with me, she measured his dick. "Penis; 3 inches [7½ cm]. Testicles; normal."

By the time she finished all of that with Alex, I was beginning to hurt. The liquid she'd been pumping into my intestines had made its way through a lot of me. I felt the skin on my tummy begin to stretch and distend downward. I looked pregnant. As I was about to complain about my predicament, she walked over to me.

"As I pull the plug out, do not lose a single drop, Alvin," she warned. I figured not to disobey her, but this was going to be difficult. I nodded and she began pulling on the plug. I closed my eyes to this particular humiliation as well, especially with Alex there, and with some undue pain, the plug popped out of my anus. The tube followed right behind and I was left with a significant amount of liquid inside me.

"Get down and hold it for as long as you can," she said.

I nodded and Alex took my place on the table. She did the same with him that she did with me; reflexes, eyes, nose, teeth, throat, and ears. Then his vitamin shot came. He put up less of a fuss about it than I did. By the time Alex had to assume the 'doggy' position, I was in some serious pain from the cramps, and there was no way I could hold it any longer. I told her so, too.

"Go on through that door," she told me, pointing to the door behind me.

I ran as dignified as I could through it and to the toilet provided. With a great deal of relief, I released the contents into the bowl. I sat there for a long time trying to rid myself of all of it while I heard Alex on the receiving end of the prostate exam. For me, though, it was painful, degrading, and loud, but I finally accomplished it. By this time, Leon was in the room going through his inspection and Alex was the recipient of the liquid enema.

When finished, I wiped up and walked back into the doctor's office. She told me to go wait in the hall with Agent Jones. I nodded and left. Once outside, I saw the others, but more importantly, they saw me and snickered.

"Laugh, you idiots; you're next," I retorted. That shut them up in a hurry. Jones sort of snorted, but said nothing to me other than to stand next to the wall further along it. Alex joined me a few minutes later.

"You okay?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. He didn't seem any more enthusiastic about this than I did.

We waited and the others filed into the room and back out again, significantly more subdued. The only one that it didn't seem to bother was Jeff Yung. He may have been the smallest of us, but I never let that guide my judgments of him. Finally, we were all inspected and cleaned out.

Jones had us follow him again. As we walked, it seemed that only James, Leon, and Jeff were unbothered by being naked. The rest of us tried to cover our exposed groins as we walked. But, once we got to the room Jones was leading us to, we had to place our hands behind our backs.

This room was small with a small shower at one end and a table at the other end. On the table was a set of clippers used for cutting hair, and some strange looking leather collars. They were similar to the one that the doctor's boy was wearing. A quick glance and I could tally them up to twelve; no real stretch of imagination to guess who would be wearing them. We were lined up against one wall, and facing us was ourselves; the whole wall on the other side was covered with a mirror.

"Alvin, I need you to quickly step into the shower and get wet," he said and I nodded.

The water was cool, but not cold. I stepped in and out quickly and walked up to Agent Jones. He had me face the mirror and place my hands behind my back again. A click followed by a hum told me the clippers were turned on. He brought them to my forehead and without further preamble, began to shave my head of all its excess fur.

"Oh my god," I heard from behind me.

"No comments are needed, boys," Jones said, quieting any other noise.

I was stunned into inaction. I just couldn't believe that I was losing every bit of hair I had in the world. Buzz after buzz flew over my head, causing all of my wavy hair to cascade down my body. For some reason or other, I began crying. I couldn't say why it was happening, but it just was.

"It'll grow back, Alvin," Jones said as he saw the tears run down my cheeks. I couldn't say anything, so I just nodded barely.

When he was done, I had hair that was less than a quarter inch [5 mm] long on my head. But, he wasn't finished. He grabbed a can of shaving cream and put some in his hand. From there it went all over my head. A regular shaving razor was used to remove whatever the clippers had left behind.

"Get into the shower, Alex," he said as he was finishing up with me.

As the last vestiges of my fur was gone, he took a towel and removed the excess cream from my bald head. I looked like a cancer patient, but with eyebrows. He went to the table and returned with a collar. It went around my neck, and was fairly snug, but had a little slack to it. On the front of it was a number "1". Jones told me to resume my place with the others and Alex took my place.

As I walked back over, I didn't bother raising my head to look at the others. Shame and humiliation had flooded over me; I was totally bald. I felt exposed and now truly naked. I resumed my place at the left of the line, but wasn't going to look up. I didn't look up again until after James took his place at Jones's side.

"Just a trim around the ears, please," he said with a certain smugness.

"Very funny, James," Jones told him. Once again, though, it didn't bother him. He was shaved and returned to the fold, still as brash as ever.

Jeff was a little shaken, though. I guess he was human after all. But, during the time of James's shave and to Jeff's, I kept looking at myself in the mirror. I was hoping that Jones was correct; that it would grow back. I think Alex had the same thoughts going through his mind. As the one called Remington was getting his done, I saw that he also had a birthmark, but it was on his bottom right rib. Other than James, none of the rest of us spoke the whole time we were there. Losing the one thing that sort of made us who we were at the time humbled all of us.

"Now that you're all presentable," he said, starting off. I thought the notion was debatable. "I want to introduce you to your collars."

"Our collars?" Bull asked from way down the line.

"Yes, Edward," he said simply.

From the table, he picked up a remote control. With a simple pushing of one button, pain erupted along my neck where the collar was touching. All of us screamed and were brought to our knees. I tried grabbing the collar, to lift it from my neck, but it shocked my hands and worse where it touched more of my neck's skin from me pulling on it. I tried to get it off me, but it was locked on. The pain was excruciating and seemed to go on for ever, but stopped eventually.

"Back into formation, boys," Jones said, with a certain amount of sadistic pleasure.

Achingly, I stood back up and Jones waited until all of us were standing before continuing.

"That was only about thirty seconds or so and on the lowest setting of 'one'. There are ten settings, with each of them getting more painful as it goes upward.

"With this control, I can use it to affect all of you, or just one. Each of your instructors will have similar controls. Don't give us cause to use them and we won't, but we will if we have to. Also, there is a tower that will emit a pulse so powerful that will make you unconscious if you try to run."

"This is not what I signed up for, though," Bull said, stubbornly.

Jones punched the buttons on the remote, sending Bull to his knees in pain and agony. He screamed and clawed at the collar, trying to get it off him, but whatever he tried was useless. We watched in horror and awe as he writhed around on the ground for over a minute before Jones hit another button to make it stop.

I made up my mind right then and there never to have this collar shock me ever again. I didn't need any more convincing than what I had just seen.

"Get up, Edward, and back in line," Jones said coldly. Bull didn't move. "Unless you want another shock at the next level…" Bull was up and standing back against the wall.

Jones made his way over to him to look him in the face.

"You will learn soon enough not to get an attitude with me, boy," he told him. "Two demerits for the lesson."

Jones turned to move away from him. He had us turn and follow him back out the door, so I was now last in line. We walked down the halls, embarrassingly, as some people that were there came out to see a dozen totally hairless preteens. I wondered if this was normal. The hall he led us down ended at a simple door. He opened it, and we filed through. Once inside the area, he let us break from the single file to look at it.

All of us were shocked; it was a dorm. Sort of. To the right and left of us were six 'rooms'. They were only chest-high on us and made of cinderblocks. The doors leading to them were heavy metal doors with a number on the front and a pin and lock to lock it into place. To open the door, all someone had to do was remove the pin and the door opened. But the tops of the rooms were made of wire mesh.

"These," Jones stated flatly, "are your living quarters. As you can see, there is a number on the doors of your cages, they correspond to the numbers on your collars. That is where you'll be sleeping."

He led us past them and into a small area with a television, a set of bookcases, sofas, table and things of relaxing nature.

"In here is your common area. You'll be able to have some leisure time to yourselves where you can watch television, play games, study, relax." He then motioned to his right, our left. There was an entrance to another room, but without a door. "In there are the showers and toilets."

He turned again, but this time to his left and walked. We followed again. Here was a cafeteria; self-explanatory. Again, we filed along behind him as he showed us yet another room. It was an open room with a soft floor and other doors around it.

"This is your main workout room. From here, you'll see there are some other doors; they lead to different rooms." He showed us two doors at the far end. "Those two are the punishment rooms; I'll explain those in a moment." We were stunned again, but he continued around the room, uninterrupted. "That one goes to a weight room, then the swimming pool. The one next to that is a firing range and the one next to that is your classroom. The last one leads outside to an outdoors training area.

"Now, I know you have questions. This is the time to ask them. But, let me warn you first; be respectful. And second, I will not answer a question if I am not ready. If so, don't ask again, or you'll receive a demerit."

"What're these demerits?" James asked quickly.

"Good question. Every week you will be competing against your fellow trainees for points. Merits give you points and demerits remove points. At the end of the week, the points are added up. There will be two winners and two losers. The two losers will spend a certain amount of time in the punishment room. The two winners will be rewarded.

"And I don't know if you saw it or not, but there is a board in your common room with your collar numbers on it. That is there to show you the score throughout the week."

"What's in the punishment room?"

"Instruments of punishment, Scott," Jones answered.

"Like what?"

"I'll let you find out when you go in there."

"Don't you mean 'IF' we go in there?" James asked, but he wasn't being disrespectful. It was almost whimsical.

"Oh, trust me, James, all of you will be spending some time in there sooner or later," Jones came back with, with a certain amount of smugness.

"What're the rewards?" Ben asked.

"Second place gets a choice; six candy bars, that he may do whatever he wishes with, or an article of clothing. First place gets either twelve bars or six and a piece of clothing, but never two pieces of clothing."

"So, we have to earn our clothes?" James again.

"Yes, but you can only wear them on your own leisure time. You won't be able to wear them during training times. Also, if you do ever go to the punishment room, you'll lose a piece of clothing if you have one, but only if you have one. Also, each time that you go into there, the punishments will get worse."

"What are we going to be doing?" Leon asked.

"Training. You'll see what it is as it goes."

He told us that our schedule was a simple one. We would wake up at six and have breakfast shortly after. Our classes began in the classroom at seven and they go until eleven, with a break at nine. Lunch would be given to us at eleven. Language studies from twelve till one. From one o'clock till six, was training in different areas; weights, self-defense, weapons, tactics, and different specialized fields. Supper was at six and then our own leisure time from then till nine. Showers and personal hygiene were to be done and then in our cages by half past when the lights were turned out.

"But, tonight something different will be done," he said in finality.

"How so?" James again. I was liking him less and less; always the one with the mouth.

"Tonight, only half of you will eat dinner," he said to all of us.

"Why?" Bull, this time.

"Because you're going to fight for it," he answered easily. "Does anyone know what a melee is?" He looked around at all of us, but we all shook our heads, no. "It's a fight. Everyone against everyone." All of us looked at each other. Only James and Bull were smiling.

"The ones that give up first will not be eating," he said to a stunned crowd. "The lowest three will be given three demerits each, and the next three will be given two. And none of you will eat.

"The next three will be given one demerit, but will eat. Third place will get nothing but food; no merits, no demerits. Second place, one merit, and last man standing will get two merits. Also, if you give up too quickly, an added demerit will be tacked on.

"One last thing," he said to us, giving us one of his most serious looks. He had me walk up to him and turn to face the others. I hate being put on display. "If ANY of you grab someone's collar, EVER, you will be given ten demerits and spend an extra night in the punishment room." He reached up and grabbed my collar by the back of it. I was almost choking by the lessened room I had to breathe now. "From this position I can break Alvin's neck. It may kill him, or have him paralyzed from the neck down for the rest of his life. That is why no one is to grab a collar.

"No one ever grabs another one's collar. I can't stress that enough. I know you're going to have disagreements and probably some fights amongst yourselves, but the collars are totally off limits. Do you understand?"

Everyone nodded, but he wasn't satisfied until everyone voiced their understanding. He had me return to the group.

"Now, with that, does anyone have any questions about the melee?"

"How do we get someone to quit?" Scott asked. Now there was a stupid question, I thought.

"Punch, kick, bite, pinch; I don't care. Excluding grabbing of a collar, and doing serious harm to someone, like poking out an eye, anything's legal."

I couldn't believe an adult was actually encouraging us to fight. But, I didn't have any time to mull it over.

"GO!"

That was all it took. I saw Bull turn and punch Simon as hard as he could. The poor kid didn't stand a chance; he hit the ground with blood gushing from his nose. But, after that, I didn't know what happened to him. I had my own problems. Alex, whom I thought I was getting along with, swung at me. Thankfully, his aim was off, and he only gave me a glancing blow off my ear. I ducked and swung upwards to his stomach.

This was the one time I was thankful for being bald; no one was going to be grabbing me by my hair. One of the other kids at the orphanage gave me a 'swirlie' once. Now, it was impossible to be done. All I had to do was keep fighting and not worry about my hair.

When Alex had bowled over from my connection to his stomach, I used the back of my head to nail his chin. He landed on the ground, holding his face. I didn't stop. I punched his jaw until he screamed that he was done. I was about to go find another opponent when one found me; Scott. He ran into me with his bulk, sending me to the mat. I felt my side get scraped along the fabric, but concentrated on getting his fat stomach off me. I didn't have to worry about it long, as James kicked him hard in the face as he was working on me.

Not to let the opportunity slip by, I rolled away to come face to face with Ben. I wasn't prepared to fight anyone yet, so I got a fist to my jaw for my lack of preparation. And he didn't stop there. One more got me in the side. As I went down, I saw he'd left his nuts unprotected. If there was one thing I'd learned in the orphanage, it was to protect your jewels. I side-kicked right into his, sending him to the floor, screaming. I swung the other foot around to kick him in the face and he gave up.

As I got to my feet, I saw that along with Alex and Ben, Scott, Simon, Jeff, and Remmie were all down. James and Leon were going up against Bull while Philip was in a head-lock given by Mike. I had to make a choice. Bull was the one that was the biggest threat, now. I walked calmly over behind him and smirked. I hoped that the other two saw what I was doing. I just sat down a little bit behind and got onto all-fours. James saw it and kicked him in the stomach. Bull fell backwards over me, landing hard on his back, but it wasn't enough to have him quit. He needed added incentive. One punch to his nuts had him squealing like a schoolgirl. One more had him giving up.

I turned to see who would be next, only to get a fist to my left ear. But this one was flat on to the side of my head and it hurt. When I rolled over, I saw James standing there, having dispatched Leon with a sucker punch, following his kick to Bull. I moved to kick his legs out from under him, but he sidestepped it. While his concentration was on me, Mike came up behind him with a punch to his kidney.

He screamed, leaving me an opening to do what I wanted before; kick his legs out from under him. He hit the ground and Mike nailed him hard enough for him to quit. I was about to close in for the kill, thinking that I had this victory in hand, but Mike was way ahead of me and swung around with a punch to my face. I never saw it coming. I felt myself almost flying backwards, reeling from the punch.

I wasn't going to give up, though. As Mike closed in, I turned over to try and get at him, but he didn't let up. I got a kick to the mid-riff for my troubles. I rolled away and got another as I tried to stand. I tried again, and got one to my nuts.

"I give," I cried, holding my precious jewels. They may not have been much, but they were the only things my parents left me that I could pass on.

"I WIN!" Mike screamed, but had a bit of blood coming from his own nose.

"Not yet," came an unfamiliar voice.

Everyone looked towards Jeff. It was then that I really noticed him; he wasn't hurt. Even Seth, who was the first one out, at least had a broken nose. Jeff was fine.

"He sat down," I said to Mike.

"Why that little son of a bitch," he exclaimed.

I knew it; the little prick was smart. I'd have to give him that much for thinking. While the rest of us were quarreling with each other, he survived till the end by doing nothing. I felt a little cheated, but also impressed. I was at the very least not going to get any demerits from this, and a meal. I moved over to sit with the others that had been eliminated. I remember James was sitting to my immediate left.

"Hope Mike wins," James said. "You?"

"Mike," I said simply. Both of us were rooting for him, but I wasn't so sure he would win. Mike was smart and tough, but he'd been hit several times. His eye was beginning to swell, and his nose was still bleeding.

Jeff moved around towards his blind side, but Mike didn't fall for that; he kept the kid in plain sight. Jeff feigned to Mike's right, causing him to over-commit, and then moved back with a kick to Mike's stomach.

"Oh, shit," James said, echoing my own concerns.

Mike tried to retaliate, but was clumsy from fatigue and taking a few punches. Jeff dodged out of the way easily and came back with a punch to the boy's jaw. He spun around, nailing Mike straight in the mouth. With all the momentum build up, it sent our champion to the floor with a busted lip. Jeff sat down on top of him and began wailing on his face with punch after punch.

"I think he's had enough, Jeffery," Jones said, calling an end to the melee.

Jeff climbed off him and simply walked away; totally devoid of any marks.

"Well, Jeff is our winner, with Michael in second, and Alvin in third. James, Edward, and Leon are the next three, and the last to qualify to eat. All the rest of you will not be eating tonight, with Philip, Remington, and Scott getting two demerits. Alex, you and Ben will get three demerits and Seth will receive four."


	4. Launch

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 3- launch

Bolstered by a mediocre success, I was feeling pretty good about myself. My first day and, although I'd been stripped naked and lost every strand of hair I ever had, several others were in worse shape than I was. I had a few marks, but I'd taken worse at school. Both Mike and Seth had to get their noses put back in place before going to bed. Others had some bruises and welts, but even through it all, I was sitting fairly nice.

In points, Seth was dead last. Jeff was first, of course, followed by Mike and then me. The others trickled on down from there.

Jeff, Mike, James, Bull, Leon and I made our way to the cafeteria, while the others headed to the common area. The meal was simple hamburgers, fries, and a soda. James, Leon and I made a small group where we started talking.

I found out that James was nine, about to turn ten soon, and from a small town in Arkansas. His father shot his mother and then himself when James was five. From there, he lived with his mother's parents until they couldn't take care of him any longer.

"A guy came to the farm a week ago and asked if I wanted to do something with my life," he said. "I told him that I did. He talked it over with my grandparents and here I am."

Leon shared his story that he was also nine, but from Chicago. Both of his parents were drug dealers and not very good at being careful. The police got them a few years ago.

"They took them away, and I ain't seen them since," he said with a sombre look.

"Do you want to?" James asked.

Leon looked like he was going to say something, but stopped. He then shrugged his shoulders and remained quiet about it.

"I wonder if we're all orphans or something like that," I said out loud.

"Good question," James stated.

I looked at the other three that was in the room with us. Jeff was off by himself, not caring about talking with anyone. But, he was also watching everyone, too. Mike and Bull were sitting at the same table, but Bull was too pissed off at losing that he didn't want to talk to anyone and Mike seemed okay with that. I supposed that he was too sore to talk, too.

We finished our meal and walked into the common area. No one was talking to anyone. Every one of them was sulking in some form or fashion at losing the melee.

"Man, that was a good dinner," James said a little too loudly. I put some distance between the two of us real quick. The others had murderous looks on their faces. The only one of the losers that didn't was Simon.

"You okay?" I asked Alex as I walked up to him. He just shrugged back. "I'm sorry I did that, but I had to." He shrugged again, but did nothing else, so I gave up on it.

The thing that kind of struck at me, as I was walking away from him, was that all twelve of us were now used to being naked. Not one of us was trying to hide our privates any more. I wondered if that was the whole point of the melee to begin with.

We watched some cartoons that James picked, and just about nine o'clock, Agent Jones came into the room.

"Okay everyone, head to the bathroom, brush your teeth, and then get back out here for bed."

We did as we were told and I noticed that Leon didn't really know what to do with the toothbrush or paste. I took mine and showed him how to use them. He nodded and smiled his thanks. We were brushed and then ready for bed in about ten minutes. I felt kind of strange to be going to bed naked and without a single strand of hair, but I thought I could do it.

When we walked back out, the doors to the cages were opened with Jones standing at the end of the row. Remembering what he said earlier about the numbers on our collars going with those numbers, we headed to our respective places. I walked up to the cage with the number "one" on it and slipped inside. I had to duck my head to get inside and keep it down. There was only about three or four inches [7-10 cm] on the right side of the bed to walk. The bed itself stretched the length of the cage. The whole thing was for one purpose; for us to sleep in and keep us there.

Once I was on the bed, I was able to see upward through the wire mesh that covered the top. Jones closed and locked my door first and then moved on. After he was gone to lock the others in their cages, I used my hands and feet to see if the wire mesh would move. It did, but only a smidgen. That told me that it could be opened at any time. I didn't like that idea.

"Good night, boys," Jones said to us after locking Jeff into his cage across the row from me. Only a few answered back to him. The lights were then doused.

"Well, this was certainly fun," James announced to the quiet room after Jones was gone.

"Shove it, James," Bull barked at him.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. I heard something that sounded like crying coming from across the aisle. It sounded like it was coming from Seth's cage. I grabbed my sheet and rolled over.

"Are you crying?" Bull taunted him.

"No," he said, but sniffed.

"Leave him alone, Edward," James growled.

"Only faggots call me 'Edward'," he growled back.

"So, you're calling Mr. Jones a faggot?"

No answer.

"Edward. Eddie. Edwardo."

"Edweirdo," someone said and all of us laughed. I thought it came from my side of the aisle, but at the farthest end.

"Shut up, before I punch your lights out," he threatened.

"Now, there's a trick I'd like to see, Edweirdo," I taunted.

"No kidding; me too," Leon chimed in. "Edweirdo."

Then some chants of "Ed-weird-o" began. He hit the roof of his cage in frustration at us and we laughed all the more.

"Guys, we'd better stop," Mike suggested.

"Why?" James asked.

"Because I am starting to smell his brains cooking from over here," he answered back, sending all of us back into fits of laughter.

"He ain't got any brains," Leon spouted off.

"AAGGHHH!" Bull shouted and hit the bars at the top again. "Just you wait till tomorrow, punk."

"Yeah, I'm worried," James said, almost yawning. "Good night, Edweirdo."

More guffaws from the rest of us. What I found strange was that no one came into the room to stop us. Jones, nor the doctor, nor anyone else was there. I wondered if they'd all left for the day. I kept my thoughts to myself.

We all settled down after a while and began to nod off for the night. Soon, I was being woken up by a loud, shrill whistle. I was so startled, I sat up too fast and hit my head on the top of the cage.

"OWWW!" As I held my head in my hands, I heard other cries of the same from others in the room.

It took a second or two to remember where I was. Feeling my bald head reminded me of it all. I was in Virginia, going through some training, totally, stark naked and hairless, with eleven other boys my age.

"Yeah, right, now I remember."

This whole situation was going to take some getting used to.

"As I open the doors to your cages, come out and stand next to them with your arms behind your backs." The voice was unfamiliar to me.

The door was opened and I crawled out of the small space to the ice-cold floor. The man walking around the room was a little shorter than Jones with white hair. I stood there, shivering a little from the cold floor as I watched him circle. Alex joined me a few seconds later and also began shivering a little.

"Good morning, boys," he said with a certain look on his face that I didn't really like. He looked like a cat that finally caught and ate the family canary. "Let's get some food in your stomachs and then some knowledge in your brains, shall we?"

"Oh, jeeze. Way too chipper for my tastes."

He led the way into the cafeteria and we went by the serving line. The cook seemed as happy as possible this morning as he was the previous evening when we ate. He must like looking at hairless boys.

"This is it?" Scott asked, looking at his meal.

"That's it, Chubby," the likewise overweight cook told him.

Bull also complained that it wasn't enough to feed him fully, but got the same rebuff from the cook.

Like the previous night, James, Leon and I sat together, but Simon sat at our table, also. He didn't join in on our conversation, but sat there anyway. Bull was still by himself with Scott sitting across from him. Jeff sat at the same table with them, but as far away as possible. The others divided themselves up as they wished.

We ate in silence, but I could tell that Bull was eyeing James with a glare that meant business. I was sure that he was just waiting for the man to leave to enact his vengeance for the previous night. He didn't get the chance. When we were done, the new man had us go back inside and brush our teeth; it was something that had to be done after every meal, apparently.

"I am your teacher, boys," he told us upon entry into the general room we were in the night before. "Follow me into the classroom, please."

Again, it wasn't a request. From that main room, it was the door almost directly across the room from the door we'd just entered by. He led us through it to a room with twelve metal desks in it. The individual chairs were bolted to the floor as were the desks in front of them. Each chair had a number to it from one to twelve. Of course, number one was all the way up front and to the left. Also, on each desk was a laptop computer.

But the strangest thing about these desks was that there was a black dowel sticking up about four inches [10 cm] in the middle of the seat. That was the one thing alone that was keeping each of us from taking our seats.

"What're these for?" our mouthpiece asked the teacher.

"Those go inside your rectums," he said with a smile.

Every one of us backed away from the desks.

"Either sit down on them or I will make you do it," he threatened, holding up a remote control.

All twelve of us looked at each other, wondering the same thing; which of us was going to do it first. The answer came in the form of Jeff. Not bothered by the fact that we were watching him, he moved to his desk, grabbed the rod with one hand and smoothly sat down on it. He grimaced for a split second as the rod pierced his anal door, but otherwise made no other indication that anything was different.

With that success, the rest of us were a little bolder, but a few were still resistant to having something like a rod stuffed up our butts. Even though the rod took up a great deal of space, there was still plenty of room to slip under the small table and lower my body down on top of the rod. It was just the idea that bothered me. An enema was one thing, but having a black rod shoved up there was something else entirely.

I heard a grunt behind me and turning, I saw Mike lower himself down onto the rod. Taking a breath, I followed suit. Being careful, I put my butt right on top of the invader. I tried to gently move it to where it would go inside, but it wasn't going as gently as I was trying to make it.

"Either goes down on it, Alvin, or I will push you down, myself," a voice said to me only a few inches away.

I was so startled by it, I reared back from it. And with that, I lost my grip, and plunged down on the rod. I grimaced at the pain of its initial intrusion. A few seconds later, I heard some of the others do the same thing. Grunts filled the room as rods speared several preteen holes.

The teacher walked around to each of us, making sure we were actually sitting on the stupid thing.

"Sit down, fat boy, or I'll force you to do it," he growled. I turned around, without moving my butt, to see the teacher in Scott's face.

"But, I don't want something up my butt," Scott whined.

The teacher touched two buttons on the control, sending Scott into a fit of blubbering screams. His fat rolled around as he thrashed in pain at the shock. It lasted less than a minute, but it got the point across; sit or scream. Scott got off the floor and, after a moment's hesitation, sat his big butt down on the rod. He groaned at it just like the rest of us.

After the teacher was satisfied that we were all down on the rods properly, he made his way to his desk. With one push of a button on the desk, the rod moved further inside me and then became incredibly large, filling up my anal cavity. It was like a large balloon was blown up inside there. All twelve of us squealed in surprise at it. I tried to get off the rod, but it was now too large to be pulled out of my hole. I realized that we were all stuck, now.

"Now that I have your complete attention, allow me to introduce myself properly," he began as he sat on the edge of his desk. "I am Mr. Collins. In my class, you will learn the basics; math, English, science, history, social sciences, languages, and computer sciences. Now, that may seem like a lot, but you'll get to know everything soon enough.

"Under the tables of the desks are the books you're going to need. Find and remove your mathematics books, please."

Squirming around, trying to make that thing in my butt more comfortable, I found the book with the numbers on it. From there, Mr. Collins began discussing math. It was the summer and I was learning math again. With an inflated tube stuck up my butt. If there was a god somewhere, he/she hated me.

As he began teaching math, I began to notice the balloon in my butt less and less. Soon, even though I knew it was still there, I didn't really pay it any mind. Math lasted all of about an hour. From there, it was English for another hour. Then the button on the desk was pushed again. The air in the butt plugs was let out and the rod descended a little, back to its original position. All of us gasped in relief.

"Okay, boys, get up and walk around for a bit. Go to the bathroom, if you need to."

I slipped off the rod and out of the chair to my right. Alex, through some small bruises on his face, looked back at me. I simply nodded and followed the others out of the room. In the open workout room, I bent over and stretched, touching my toes. It felt good to do that. As the others left the room, I looked at the mirror against the wall to my left.

My image was one of a bald boy with some bruises in different places on his body. For the first time, I ran my hand along the skin of my scalp, feeling its baldness. Then, from there, I let my hands travel down my face and over my shoulders. They trekked downward still, over my torso, to rest at my side.

"Feel good?" Mr. Collins asked, suddenly at my left. Startled, I turned towards him, but backed away a little. "I didn't mean to scare you, Alvin."

"You just startled me, Mr. Collins," I informed him.

"I see."

"Can I ask what we're doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, no one has told us what we're supposed to be learning or training for. All they've done is taken our clothes, shaved our heads, and forced us to fight each other."

"I can't tell you much more than you already know, but I can tell you this; if you look deeper, you'll see the big picture. You're smart, Alvin, or you wouldn't be here."

"And Edward's here for what reason?"

"Edward has a different future than yours," he said laughing, obviously knowing what I was hinting at. "Some people are good for nothing but cannon fodder."

With that, he walked away from me. Shaking my head at the amount of information he didn't give me, I went and used the toilet before joining my classmates in the common area. We resumed our seats, rods in place, at the top of the hour for our science lesson. We had a small break in between science and history, but weren't allowed to get out of the desks, so I used the time to look up what "cannon fodder" meant on the computer. Ten minutes later, history took over for another fifty minutes.

For some strange reason or other, I paid attention to the lessons. Back at that the orphanage, I didn't do well in school, but I began to do it here. Mr. Collins had explained to us that we will earn merits if we do well, but I found I was doing the studies without regard to the merits.

James, being the oldest of all of us, seemed to be doing the best in the school department as well. Bull had the worst time of all with the studies. The rest of us were sort of a mixed group, with some doing better at some subjects than others. I found I enjoyed, and did well at, math, science, and Computer science. Alex struggled at those subjects, but excelled at history and our different social sciences.

After the morning studies were done, we got to eat lunch. Both Scott and Bull were complaining that they weren't getting enough to eat. The three of us sat together again, and Seth joined us as well, but remained silent. As we were sitting at the table talking, Bull walked over and grabbed the desert from Simon's tray.

"Give it back," James told him as he stood up. The room went dead silent.

"Make me," Bull answered.

James was about to try and do just that, but Seth spoke up.

"It's okay, James, I don't like pudding anyway."

James and Bull looked at each other for a few seconds more until James sat back down. Bull walked smugly away, eating Simon's pudding.

"Someone's going to have to teach Bull a lesson," Leon stated simply when the room began talking again. The three of us nodded at that notion.

"I volunteer," James offered.

We finished our meal and headed into the common area for some television and games. I sat down with Simon for a game of checkers. We each won two games before Mr. Collins came back to get us. Once we were back down on the rods and they were inflated in our rectal areas, he told us to open the laptops on the desk. When I opened mine, a disc started up in the drive and a picture of The Kremlin popped up.

"Put on the headphones that're plugged into the computers," he said.

I put mine on and someone speaking Russian came into my ears. The voice began teaching the language to me. That first week was the basics. For some reason or other, a few of the words seemed familiar to me. The lesson was only about twenty minutes long, but it repeated itself twice during the course of the hour. When the hour was up, I felt the plug inside me deflate.

Another man walked into the room and stood at the front of the class. He was tall, big, muscular, and had a thin beard that looked more like a five o'clock shadow on his face. He was dressed in black.

"I am Mr. Routhe. I am the weight trainer and self-defence teacher. Line up next to the wall."

Simple enough. I took my place at the end next to the door heading back into the main workout area.

"Follow me," Mr. Routhe said as he walked by me.

I turned and followed him out of the classroom and into the central room. From there, we walked straight into the weight room. Once inside, he began telling us all about each of the pieces of equipment in the room and what they were for; bench press, incline, etc. He then showed us how to stretch properly before working out. From there, he had us using each of the pieces of equipment.

James, Bull and Jeff enjoyed the lesson. I was okay with it, and so were a few others, but Simon, Alex, and definitely Scott were totally against it. Anything having to do with physical exercise, Scott was not interested in.

An hour later, he began showing us some self-defence techniques. It was nothing like karate or judo, but simple things that a person can know and do to protect themselves from a would-be attacker.

An hour later, swimming was next. Mr. Davenport was our swimming instructor. He needed to teach the basics of swimming, as some of us, me included, didn't know how to swim. All Scott did was sit in the pool and float like a bucket of lard. James was all over the place swimming; made me sick to think he can do anything. Jeff wasn't getting wet, though.

"What's the problem, number twelve?" Mr. Davenport asked as Jeff was standing by the side of the pool.

"Nothing," he said, but a look of fear was in his Oriental brown eyes.

"Then get into the pool."

"I… I can't," he said and backed away from the water.

So, he was scared of the water; interesting.

"One demerit, number twelve. Now get into the pool, or suffer." The instructor pulled out a remote from his pocket, pointing it threateningly at Jeff.

Jeff was wrestling with his fear of both things. Two seconds later had him writhing on the floor in pain. He tossed and turned in agony while all the rest of us could do was watch. Scott and Bull winced, remembering their experiences with that thing. Unconsciously, my hand gravitated towards my own collar as I watched Jeff squirm around on the floor. Davenport punched another button, causing Jeff to scream out in torment. Up to then, all he had done was writhe on the floor, now he was screaming.

"He's getting a hard-on," James whispered.

He wasn't referring to Davenport. Jeff's little dick was sticking straight out, even in the throes of agony.

"What does that mean?" I asked him.

"He enjoys it," he whispered back.

One more punch of the buttons and Jeff screamed even louder. Davenport had turned up the juice on the boy's collar again, sending even more powerful shocks of electricity through him.

"Could it be the electricity doing it?" Leon asked.

"Possibly, but you have to admit; there's something strange about that kid."

Both of us nodded at that.

Finally, Davenport punched a few buttons and turned off the collar. Jeff gasped in relief, lying still on the floor of the pool.

"Now get into the pool, or get a level four shock," Davenport threatened.

Achingly, Jeff nodded. Trying to hide his erection, Jeff crawled over and got to the edge of the pool. The fear was still very evident, but not wanting another round with the electricity of his collar, Jeff eased into the water.

Davenport moved into the water right after him and began showing us how to swim. He corrected each of us when we were doing something wrong, but mainly showed us the basics and let us work on it. Jeff swam, but never got his face wet. Davenport allowed him that for the time being, but I got the feeling that sooner or later, Jeff was going to have to swim properly.

Another two hours later, and we were done with that. We towelled off afterward and made our way back into the general room. We were pretty tired after two hours of a workout and another two hours swimming. But, Mr. Routhe met us in the room.

"Let's see what you've learned. Everyone pick an opponent."

Bull made right for Seth, of course. I wondered what it was that he had it in for the boy. Leon and James paired up; that was going to be an interesting matchup. Philip and Mike partnered. Remmie and Ben paired. Jeff made a bee-line for Alex. I was left with Scott.

"Wonderful."

"Okay, you'll be going against your partner and only your partner. Winners get a merit; losers get a demerit and no supper."

The advantage I had was that Scott was sorer than me. After nine years of complacency, he was in no shape to do anything after a workout. I felt sorry for Simon, knowing that he was probably going to lose again. I was right. Once Mr. Routhe said the word, go, Bull flattened him to the ground inside a second with another punch to his face.

Scott was in no hurry to get into a fight. So, for a few seconds, we simply circled each other, gauging how to beat the other one. Before he and I even touched each other, Jeff had beaten Alex soundly. Scott made a move to hit me while I was distracted with the Jeff/Alex fight, but I dodged his fat fist easily. My fist connected with his blubber surrounding his stomach, but it did little damage to him.

"You ain't gonna beat me that way, Alvin," he said. How very smart of him.

I came back with a kick to his knee and he went down. Another assault on his middle, but this time with a kick, had him groaning in pain. From there, I just launched myself on to him and kept punching and kicking wherever I could find flesh. He did land one lucky punch on my jaw, but I didn't let that stop me. I kneed him in the nuts right after his punch and he called out that he was quitting.

When all was said and done, Bull, Jeff, Remmie, Mike, Leon and I were the winners. Seth had to get his nose fixed again as the six of them headed for the common area and we headed for the cafeteria. I was feeling a little sorry for Alex, having to go without dinner for two days straight, but I had to lookout for myself. Seth was the one that I was more concerned for. He just didn't seem to be catching on with anything that was being taught.

The six of us ate dinner. Leon and I sat together again, but were accompanied by Remmie and Mike. Bull sat off to himself again, and the rest of us let him, and Jeff was at another table.

"Ah, that was a fantastic steak dinner," Mike announced upon entry of the common room. He was close; chicken fried steak and potatoes. But, it was James's goat that he was trying to get.

"Go screw yourself," James retorted, but had a smirk on his face.

James, Leon, Mike, Simon and I talked together for the rest of the night. I was a little concerned that James would hold a grudge with Leon for beating him, but he seemed okay with it.

"Someone had to win," he said, acknowledging it. "Just don't get used to it, Leon."

"We'll see," he answered back with a smirk.

"If you don't start learning to duck, you won't be able to breathe out of your nose, Seth," I told him.

"He's right," James agreed. "And it seems that Edweirdo has something against you."

"I've noticed that, too," I said, looking right at Seth for an answer. Seth didn't answer. I supposed that he was a little too embarrassed about it all to talk. Getting the hell beat out of a person can make them a little less sure of themselves.

We were in bed at our normal time of nine-thirty. And that was my first full day of training.

* * *

Thanks for your support so far guys. I love you and your reviews

please keep them coming thanks


	5. Continuing

Back from hell

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I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 4- Continuing

The next day was similar to the first one, with a few notable exceptions. One; the classes Mr. Collins taught were only Social Sciences of psychology, which went totally over my head, and computer science, which I totally excelled at. Two; we weren't pitted against each other to earn our meal, so everyone got something to eat. Three; a fight did break out, but it was an unscheduled one.

"Disappointed because you weren't able to pound on your favourite punching bag, Edweirdo?" James asked as we were walking into the common room.

Bull didn't wait for Mr. Routhe to leave; he just turned and swung at James. James didn't see it coming and took the hit right to his jaw. However big Bull was, James was tougher than he looked. One punch from another kid was not able to do him in. He got into a crouched position and rushed Bull from there. Then it was on; kicking, biting, and swinging of fists. Everyone but myself and Leon stood aside to watch.

At one point when Bull had kicked James in the stomach, I jumped in and kicked him in the head. But, I was nothing to him and he was able to hit back with no problems. I took one to the stomach and then Leon jumped in to deliver a punch to Bull's chest. Bull held his own until James kicked him hard between the legs.

"It took three of you to get me," he said through gasps. He was whipped, but had an evil look on his face. To him, this wasn't over; not by a long shot.

"Two demerits for all four of you," Mr. Routhe told us.

"I can't lose any more points," Bull complained as he climbed up onto the sofa.

"Then you should have thought of that before you punched James," the instructor answered.

"Did you hear what he called me, though?"

"Yes, I did." And that was the end of that.

My points weren't wonderful, but they weren't terrible, either. Seth was still in last place with Scott right above him. Bull was very close to him with only two points separating the two. I was somewhere in the middle.

That night, we forwent the previous night's fun of teasing Bull before conking out. All of us were tired from the day's events. But, it was that day that we began calling the punishment room simply by its initials; PR. It seemed less foreboding to us. It was James's idea, and it stuck.

The following day was the same schedule as Monday's. I noticed the pattern, now. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays we had four subjects, and on Tuesdays and Thursdays we had two, but twice as long. Language lessons were an hour every day. Weight training and self-defence were another hour each. Swimming lasted another two hours.

Throughout the week, I wondered about that last hour. That Monday was the one-on-one contests. Tuesday was nothing, so they fed us early. Wednesday was a swimming race where the winners got a merit and the losers got a demerit and went to bed hungry. Leon and I were partners for that one and were one of the winners, thanks mainly to him. Seth was saddled with Jeff as a partner in that, so he lost again, making it three for three in that department. Thursday was a free day again.

That Friday, two things stood out. One very important thing; we were all getting stubble on our heads. Our hair was indeed growing back; I breathed a little easier knowing that. Second; Friday was test day.

We were given tests over what we'd learned over the week. The tests were given on the screens of the laptops. They were also individual in nature. For instance, my test had different questions about different things on different numbers. My number one, for example, was a math question, but Alex's number one pertained to history. Not that cheating was a problem, as Mr. Collins had the remote control and seemed eager to use it should one of us get even the slightest notion of cheating. It was just the way the tests were going to be given.

We had ninety minutes to answer sixty questions. We took a break for another thirty minutes, and then back at it to answer another sixty in the next ninety minutes. What I did, was go through and answer the ones I knew, and then go back to the ones I had problems with. As it turned out, I was the third one through, behind James and Jeff. I used the same tactic with the second test as well, finishing behind the two of them again.

Lunch was given to us at its usual time. From there, it was the same afternoon routine as before. After swimming, though, we were led back into the classroom where Mr. Collins gave us our test grades.

"A one hundred scores three merits. Ninety to ninety-nine gets two. Eighty to eighty-nine gets one. Seventy to seventy-nine gets nothing. Sixty to sixty-nine gets one demerit. And anything below that gets two demerits."

He read off the scores. I earned two merits with two "B's". James got two one hundreds, pissing all of us off, but getting six merits. Jeff was right behind him with five merits. Seth only got one merit; the only one he'd earned for the week. Bull lost two merits, from a forty-six on his first test, but a seventy-something on his second. Not happy would be a vast understatement about him at that time. The others were simply mediocre.

As we walked back into the common area, we noticed the board; Seth was unsurprisingly dead last. Bull was right above him. Not surprising again, that it was Jeff that finished first. The surprise, though, was that Ben had been able to stave off James's test grades to keep his second place, by one merit.

"I'll get you next week," James promised, but with a smile.

James may have been somewhat loud, but he was becoming more and more likeable the longer things went along. He seemed to have that charisma that drew people to him. I became increasingly glad that my first impressions of him were wrong. He was a definite asset to have as a friend.

Leon was right after James. I was placed fifth for that first week. Alex was somewhat lower; eighth place.

Our little group had solidified. James, Leon, Mike, Seth, and I had become pretty tight. We were still competing against each other, none of us liked the sound of a PR, but we'd become friends. I noticed that Ben, Remmie, and Philip seemed to be making their own group as well, but not all the time. Alex was either by himself, or close to me or Jeff. Bull, Jeff, and Scott looked like they were just fine by themselves.

Through that week, I found out that Mike was also nine years old and from Florida. His parents were killed in a boating accident off the shores of the eastern coast when he was six. His uncle on his mom's side worked for the government and suggested him for this training. Seth was still unwilling to talk about his past or why Bull had it in for him.

"Well," a familiar voice said, entering the room. It was Jones, and it was the first time we'd seen him since the night of the melee. He was pushing a cart into the room with candy bars and some underpants on it. "It looks like you've survived your first week here. And it looks like you're getting your hair back."

All of us giggled at that. I rubbed my head, feeling the light stubble, with a smile.

"Now, we do have some business to take care of," he said, sobering all of us up real quickly. "I need Edward and Seth to go stand by the door leading to the cafeteria."

Both of them looked at Jones, but only Seth began moving towards the door. He knew he'd lost. Bull was obstinate.

"I only lost because of that fight with James," he almost shouted at Jones.

"Reasons don't matter, Edward, only results," he said, very threateningly. "Perhaps this'll teach you to watch your temper. Now, move over to the door. Or I can make you crawl over to it." He pulled out the remote control. Bull walked over to the door to stand next to Simon.

"Jeff and Ben, you know you get your choices of rewards, so make them now, please," he said simply.

"I want some clothing," Ben said flatly. All of us had to laugh at that. Forget the candy bars, he wanted to be covered.

"Very well," Jones said, and pulled out a pair of underpants from the cart.

"Just these?" he asked, but tried to say it in a respectful way.

"Would you rather I take them from you?"

"No, sir," he said and took the garment. Immediately, he slipped the briefs up his legs and over his hips.

Jones turned to Jeff, who didn't care about being naked. He chose a dozen candy bars. On the wall next to the door leading to the showers were two rows of six boxes. Each box had a combination lock on it. Once Jones showed Jeff the combination to his box, he put the candy bars inside it. He didn't share a one of them, but he also didn't eat any of them.

With that done, Jones pushed the cart back out the main door and into the hallway. After locking the door again, he walked through the door to the cafeteria and had the two losers for the week follow him. The rest of us were left wondering what was going to happen to them. At least some of us were wondering that.

"Who're we supposed to tease, now that Edweirdo is gone?" James asked.

All of us chuckled at that. Even Jeff laughed a little. The answer to his rhetorical question was no one. That night none of us talked. Even though we didn't get to sleep for a while, not one of the ten of us said a word. Now that the first punishment was being handed down, it had become even more real than ever. What was happening to them in that room?

It took me a long time before I nodded off to sleep that night, curious to what was going on, but I was finally unable to hold my eyes open any longer. I remember waking up a few times during the night, thinking I'd heard Seth scream, but I didn't. I did hear something else, though. I heard some strange noises coming from the walls. I couldn't place it for a few seconds, but then I recognized it; ocean waves. There was a set of speakers embedded in the walls next to my head that was playing the sound of the ocean to me as I slept. What was that all about?

I woke up that Saturday morning not too well rested. When I looked down, I saw that the door to my cage was open. Everyone else was still asleep, but I just couldn't go back to sleep, so I decided to get up. Someone had opened them, but not gotten us up for the day. I supposed Saturdays were now ours to do with as we pleased. After my morning piss, I headed to the cafeteria to see if there was something to eat. Agent Jones was sitting at one of the tables, drinking a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, Alvin," he said as I sat down with my bowl of Cheerio's and milk.

"Good morning," I answered him back.

"Sleep well?"

"Not really," I said, yawning.

"Why not?"

"Worried about Seth," I said, but that was only half the truth. I had to know. "What's with the ocean waves?"

"Subliminal learning," he said. I figured he might try to deny it, but he answered right away.

"What's that mean?"

"You and the others are learning different languages while you sleep."

"That's why I thought I'd heard the Russian words before," I said, remembering my first lesson in the classroom.

"Exactly," he said, and seemed to be impressed that I picked up on it so easily. "It helps you learn it faster. In a year's time, you'll learn five years' worth of Russian."

"Is that how long we're going to be here?" I just had to know that answer, too.

"No, you'll be here longer than that, but don't ask because I'm not going to tell you how long," he said, cutting me off quickly. "At least not yet," he amended.

"You still won't tell us what you're training us for," I said, not really expecting an answer.

"You'll find out when the time is right, Alvin."

He looked at his watch and got up from his seat.

"Time to go get Edward," he said, looking in the direction of the door leading that way.

"What about Seth?"

"You'll see him this evening."

Whatever the PR was holding, it only lasted one day at the most. That was good to know. As all the others were still asleep, I was the only one in the cafeteria when Jones brought in Bull. He looked like he hadn't slept all night. He had red eyes, seemingly from crying, and was slumped over at the shoulders. Whatever could make Bull cry, I didn't want any part of.

"What happened?" I asked when he sat down.

"I don't wanna talk about it," he answered, but it wasn't in his usual, gruff tone of voice. It was significantly more subdued. I didn't pressure him about it.

I left Bull alone with his breakfast and headed into the common area. James was just crawling out of his cage as I walked in the room.

"Mornin'," he said, wiping the sleep-stuff from his eyes.

"Mornin'," I answered back. "Bull's out and eating breakfast in the cafeteria." James got a smile on his face real quick, but it didn't last long as he continued to look at me.

"How bad is he?"

"Pretty bad," I commented. "He's not his normal self."

James nodded and then left for the toilets to do his business. I flipped on the television for the first time and began watching Saturday morning cartoons with the volume down kind of low. James didn't say anything as he walked through to the cafeteria. I just watched the cartoons. Even though I was watching them, my mind was on Bull, Seth, and our whole situation.

The others woke from their beds and crawled out of their cages one at a time throughout the morning until Scott finally got his bulk out for breakfast. He'd lost a few pounds that week, but he was still fat. As they went out to eat their meal, I just sat there with the television. It wasn't until later on that something clicked.

I was watching a cartoon where the main character was a spy. Some of the things that he and his enemies were doing came dangerously close to what we were training for. Weapons, which we hadn't started yet, self-defence, computers, and languages; all things that the characters were doing on the show.

"You got to be kidding," I said to an empty room.

I put it all together; we were training to be spies!

"Wait a minute; spies? Us kids?" I shook my head at the notion. "That has to be a mistake."

I did as Mr. Collins suggested and saw the big picture of things. The more I looked, the more I came to this conclusion. I then came to the conclusion that they may be training us to do it, but we wouldn't go out to do the actual spying until we were adults. That had to be it.

Not wanting to be ridiculed by the others, I kept my findings to myself for the time being. The whole day, with Bull walking around like he was in a fog, and Ben walking around in his new underwear, I thought about my assumptions. The more I thought about it, the more they made sense to me. By the time dinner came around, my mind was made up, but I had something else preoccupying my attention. Seth was led into the room by Jones.

"How was it?" James asked him when he sat down with us.

Bull had answered no one's questions throughout the day, no matter how they pestered him. The surprising thing was that he never lost his temper about it; he just kept quiet. Now that Simon was here, all ten of us were anxious to hear about it and were hoping he'd be willing to shed some light on the subject.

"Well?" Philip asked, sitting at our table for the first time. It was like watching one of those old E. F. Hutton commercials; everyone paying close attention.

"Give him some room, guys," James said to the closed in crowd.

Seth took his time before answering. He looked worse than Bull, but not by much. He was in that room longer than the bigger preteen, but seemed to have handled it better. Finally, he spoke, but it was barely above a whisper.

"It was nothing," he started. "All I… we… had to do was stand there."

"That's it?" James asked.

"Sort of," Seth said, looking down at the last remnants of his meal.

"Come on, Seth, out with it," Alex finally prompted.

"Mr. Jones and another guy put us in some kind of rubber suit," he began again after a deep breath. "It covered us up all over. Then the hood went up over our heads and covered our eyes."

"SHUT UP!" Bull screamed at Seth from the other side of the room, and then ran out of the room in sheer terror. All of us watched him run out, but no one followed.

"Wonder what his problem is…," James said, musingly.

"There's a whole list of them, James," Jeff commented and all of us, including Seth, laughed. We turned our attentions back to Seth, though.

"Go on, Seth," James prodded.

"Well," he stated, "something went over my eyes and ears after that. I couldn't see or hear anything. Some kind of mask was put over my nose and mouth, too.

"After that, I felt something going around my wrists and ankles. Mr. Jones pulled my arms out and legs apart, but I couldn't move them after that."

"You were tied up?" Jeff asked.

"I guess so, but I was still standing up."

"And you couldn't sit down?" Ben butted in. Simon shook his head, no.

"All night?" James asked.

"It's only been one day?" Simon asked.

"Yeah; it's still Saturday."

"It feels like longer. A lot longer."

"Well, that doesn't sound all that bad to me," James boasted.

"It's bad, James, trust me," Seth said with an amount of confidence I had not seen in him, yet. "You're right; at the beginning, it's not so bad, but soon things get bad. Your mind begins playing tricks on you after a while. Not knowing what's happening is the worst part of it."

With that knowledge in hand, some of them went their separate ways. James, Leon, Mike, and I stayed with Simon, though. Alex also remained behind. I wasn't sure if it was continued curiosity or if he was genuinely concerned for Seth, but he stayed all the same.

I went to sleep with my head full of questions and concerns. That PR didn't sound all that bad, but by the way Seth was talking and Bull was behaving, it was bad. And if this is just the beginning stages of it all, how bad is it going to get in that room and further down the road? Just what in the world where they doing with us? Was it training to be spies, or something else? If it was to be spies, why Bull, of all people? Cannon fodder, came to mind; someone expendable.

As I lay there, thinking, I heard Bull grunt and groan in his cage. When we'd turned in that evening, he seemed reluctant to go into his pen. One look at Jones's controller had him crawling inside, though. Finally, frustrated with everything, I gave up and curled up for a night's sleep.

Sunday was what we all began to term as "recovery day". Those that had spent the previous day in the PR recovered from their experiences to begin a new week. On this first recovery day, Alex began to spend more time around the five of us. I was confused by his behaviour that all of a sudden he was friendly towards us. James, Leon, and Simon accepted him readily, Mike didn't care, but I was suspicious of him.

"What're you doing?" I asked him that evening. He'd gone to the toilets to take a piss, and I cornered him in the otherwise empty room.

"What're you talking about?"

"All of last week you didn't want to talk to me or anyone else. Now all of a sudden you start to hang around us. Why?"

He just looked at me, sort of stunned that someone had seen his behaviour. I just glared at him, waiting for an answer.

"So?" I prodded again.

"No reason," he said finally, shrugging his shoulders. He tried to scoot by me, but I blocked his path.

"Bullshit," I told him. And then I realized it. "You were waiting to see which group you wanted to be in." Again, he was stunned. "All you want is to be with the biggest group. Don't you?"

He got a real scared look on his face and backed away from me. I smiled. I'd known his type at the orphanage; the ones that hang around the older kids just simply for protection, not out of loyalty or friendship. But, what do I do about it? My mind went back to that first question on the test back in Seattle; would I say something?

I turned and left him standing there in the bathroom, wondering. The others were either in the gym, pool, or common area. Bull was sitting in the common area by himself, as usual. The rest of the day wasn't enough time for Alex to behave any differently to anyone else in our group. We all just turned in with the others clueless to this latest little wrinkle.

* * *

I know you guys are waiting for a few of my other stories to be updated and I promise that I will get onto them ASAP but I'm having trouble with creativity issues so sorry guys


	6. Onwards

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 5- Onward

The second week in our training began just like the first, with a few changes. The groups began solidifying. When we sat down for breakfast, the five of us sat together as normal. When Alex looked over at us, I didn't look his direction, but James invited him to sit down. I acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. By Wednesday, Alex had made himself at home in our little group, but I hadn't said, nor forgotten, anything.

Monday, though, we had another round of one-on-one fighting. This time, though, Mr. Routhe paired us up. He paired us up by numbers; 1/3, 2/4, 5/7, 6/8, and so on. That meant that Simon and Jeff were opponents, me against Leon, Mike versus Alex, James battling Remmie, Bull and Ben, and Scott and Philip.

Philip took out Scott a lot easier than I did. James dispatched Remmie without difficulty. Bull made mince-meat of Ben; had to get his nose put back into place as well as collect a tooth he lost on the floor. Seth took another loss to Jeff. I was now feeling extremely sorry for the kid; he hadn't won anything when it came to dinners.

The biggest problems were the last four of us. We'd formed a small group and now we were adversaries. This type of thing has been known to tear friendships apart. Mike and Alex were going at it, but neither one seemed to want to do any real damage to the other. I wished I had that luck.

Leon was sparing nothing with me. Every move either of us made was countered easily by the other. I would swing, he'd block, but swing back towards me. I would block, and swing to be thwarted again. Each of us were really trying, but neither one was doing any real damage to the other. We were really trying, but getting nowhere. We ended up being the last two still fighting.

"Oh, will you just knock his head off?" James called to us.

"Which one?" Seth asked.

"I don't care," James shouted, getting to the two of us, "I'm hungry." The others laughed as we continued doing more than simply sparring.

Leon tried a head-lock, but I broke free with a punch to his stomach before he could do any real damage to me. When I did break free, I had a golden opportunity to tag his back, and I took it. He groaned, but swung away from me. He made a move to get at my stomach and I swung a fist towards his face. He ducked and all I did was hit his forehead. Hard!

"AAaagh!" I screamed, going down to the mat, holding my hand in pain.

Leon swung his foot up and nailed my side.

"I give, I give," I bellowed. My hand was in too much pain not to quit.

He giggled, but was holding his forehead where I'd tagged him. He reached his other hand down to me to help me up, and I took it with my good hand.

"Don't you know niggers have hard heads?" he asked, smirking. Everyone in the room laughed.

"I wasn't aiming for your head," I scowled, but then smirked to let him know that there were no hard feelings between us. James had taught me that the previous week by his example. Someone had to win, someone had to lose.

The winners went to the cafeteria to eat, while us losers went to the common area. Ben and I were taken to see the doctor. My hand had begun to swell a little.

"Hello," Doctor Wells said as we walked in the door.

Both Ben and I stopped in our tracks as we entered. Her bald-headed eunuch boy was tied to the examination table with his legs tied to the side and some sort of gag in his mouth. And something I'd never seen before was shoved up his butt. The thing that was up there had something of a square harness with buckles on it. The buckles were secured to the side of the table. His butt was also lined with angry red lines. I saw that his face was red as well, but from crying. Ben and I looked at each other with similar looks of surprise on our faces, then back to the boy, and then to the doctor.

"Don't pay him any mind, boys," she said to our stunned looks.

She took care of Ben first. She looked at his nose and with a quick jerk of her hands, and a gross crunching noise, she reset his nose. He screamed at the pain, but a second later stopped. I made another vow right then; never to have my nose broken. She looked at his teeth, and he only lost one of the baby teeth.

As Ben was finished, she turned her attentions to my hand, which was swelling a bit bigger, now. She moved a few of the fingers around, and the middle finger hurt as she did.

"They don't seem to be broken, but let's take a look."

In the room to the side opposite from the door where I released the contents of the enema, was an x-ray room. My hand was examined and without having to wait any longer than a few minutes, the pictures showed up. Nothing broken.

"The hand will be sore for a few days, Alvin, but you should be fine by Friday," she said with a smile. I nodded my thanks, but I was burning with a question.

"Did that boy do something wrong?" I asked her respectfully, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Yes, he did," she said, but had a smile on her face.

"Can I ask what that thing was that was stuck up his butt?"

"Oh, that," she said snickering, "is a dildo with a harness. That's for my pleasure, actually."

"Oh."

"Do you want to stay and watch?"

"Watch?"

"Watch what he gets for his punishments."

That was something new. Back at the home, Dave used Spanked us if we got too out of line, but it was always in private. Dave had done it to me often, and it was in his study with my pants on. I was completely befuddled at the suggestion she was making to me.

"Perhaps you're not ready for that, yet," she suggested at my hesitation.

"No, wait," I said, stopping her as she was about to leave the x-ray room. "I'll stay."

"Okay, follow me, then."

We went back into the office where only the boy was there. Mr. Routhe had taken Ben back to the common area. She got me an icepack from the refrigerator as she had me sit down at her desk. The pack was put on my hand. The good doctor then turned her attentions back to the bound boy. When he saw what she had in mind, namely that I was staying to watch what was about to happen, he turned his head away to look at the wall.

"Oh, no, boy. You turn right back around and look at Alvin." The boy complied with her demand, but he didn't want to. The kid had to be humiliated enough, but now it was going to get worse.

The doctor removed her cloak and then her clothes. She had a set of firm breasts with a flat stomach. A tattoo of a set of handcuffs was on her right buttock. The only things she kept on were her high-heeled shoes.

She walked up to stand behind him and removed the straps to the harness from the table. From where I was sitting, I saw something small protruding from the back of the harness. From there, the straps were buckled around her hips, putting the flat side of it right at her trimmed groin and apparently slipping that small thing inside her. In one quick move, the dildo was yanked out of the boy's backside, eliciting a groan from him. I saw what a dildo was right then; it looked like a rubber dick.

She didn't put it back inside him immediately. There was a wooden cane resting on the table next to the boy. She took it and plied it to his lined butt again. He groaned at the pain of it, but she didn't stop. Time and time again, she whipped him with that thing until it finally broke. The boy's butt and legs were nothing but a mess of red and purple lines. His face was covered in tears and red splotches.

"That was for disobeying me, boy," she hissed into his ear. "This is for me."

The dildo was reinserted into his backside, eliciting another groan from him. Once the tip was inside, she made a hard lunge forward. He screamed as best as he could through the gag, but could do nothing to stop her assault. She grabbed him by his shoulders and began to saw in and out of him with her hips. I looked on as she continued to fuck him harder and harder, each thrust more sadistically vicious than the previous one. With his hands bound to the sides of the table, all he could do was take whatever she was doing to him.

I watched speechlessly as her body finally shook in ecstasy. Even her breasts shook as she climaxed. She calmed down, but wasn't done, yet. When she'd gathered her strength, she began fucking him all over again. This one didn't last as long as the previous one, but the boy was in just as much pain. I was embarrassed for him, but did nothing to try and stop it. After the third time of fucking him, she stopped and pulled the dildo out of the kid.

"Well, that was fun," she said, trying to steady herself, "but I think he's had enough."

Now that was the worst understatement I'd heard yet. I thought he'd had enough long, long ago.

She removed the harness and dildo from her front and got dressed. I must have had a stupid look on my face, because she sort of smirked as she looked in my direction.

"Too much for you?" she asked, walking over to me.

"I guess," I said, still stunned by the display. "But what happens to him now?"

"I usually leave him tied like that for the night, especially after such a satisfying experience."

Nothing else was said between us, but as she led me back to the common area, my head was swimming with images. I saw that the others were already tucked away for the night. I brushed my teeth and pissed before walking back into the area. She wished me pleasant dreams as she locked me in my cage. I doubted if my dreams were going to be pleasant that night.

My hand was almost back to its normal size the next morning, but my head was cluttered up with even more to think about. I had to put it aside for the sake of my studies. I was now a little behind in the points and I didn't want to go to the PR. Bull and Seth were both working as hard as possible to stay out of it, so competition was stiffer.

"You okay?" Leon asked me as we sat down for breakfast.

"Yeah," I said, but didn't elaborate. My hand was getting better, but my head wasn't.

By Wednesday, actually, my hand was totally back to normal. The six of us were a tighter group, now, and I was doing a bit better in the points. I was at the very least ahead of some others; Remmie and Scott. There were at least two points separating me from Remmie.

That night, things changed for the whole group. All twelve of us. Mr. Routhe announced the fight for the evening; even numbers versus the odd numbers.

"Oh, shit," Mike exclaimed.

I wouldn't blame him. We had Leon, James, Bull, and me on our side. It was the proverbial "David versus Goliath". This time Goliath was going to win.

Mr. Routhe separated us at far ends of the room for us to strategize amongst ourselves. James took the lead almost immediately upon entering the huddle.

He came up with the game plan of who should take out whom. He wanted me to take out Alex again. I wasn't too sure of this, but I just followed his lead; he must have known what he was talking about. Leon on Scott, Bull on Mike, Remmie on Seth, Ben on Philip, and he was taking Jeff.

"You sure about this, James?" Ben asked. I was kind of thinking the same thing.

"Yeah, I am, Ben, unless you have a better idea," he countered.

"Yeah," Bull spoke up, "I want Simple Seth."

"There's a shock," I retorted. He was about to come back with another snap of his own, but James stopped him.

"Look, we ain't got the time to argue about it right now. If you take out your own man, then help one of the others."

"Everyone ready?" Mr. Routhe asked. It wasn't a question.

We broke huddle and faced down our adversaries. Simon and Philip were behind the other four. When Mr. Routhe blew his whistle, we ran at them.

"WE GIVE!" all of them shouted, kneeling down at our rush. We stopped and looked in the direction of our instructor. Mr. Routhe was visibly disappointed and a little angry.

"Alright, but two demerits for the losers for giving up so quickly," he said.

All the losers were okay with it, except for Jeff. Not happy at all. He stormed off in the direction of the common room with nothing more to say to his fellow teammates. We that were on the winning side ate our victory meal in silence. Even James seemed more subdued at the outcome.

"Why'd you guys give up so quickly?" he asked Mike when walked into the room.

"Are you kidding?" Mike asked, incredulously. "There was no way we were going to win that fight. We had Scott and Seth on our team. We knew Bull was going to be coming for him, so he would have been useless."

Seth never got over that remark. Both of them were still part of the group, but from that day onward, Simon had a chip on his shoulder when it came to Mike.

Seth was last again that week, mostly due to that fight's results. His grades had helped a little, but both Scott and Remmie did better than him on the tests. Scott was next to last, sending him to the PR for the first time. James came in first, choosing twelve bars of candy, and Leon was second, choosing the candy as well. I slipped a place and came in sixth.

James ate one of his bars, put six away in his locker, and then surprised us by sharing the rest with the four members of our little group that were there. His stock rose a huge level in my opinion right then. It was no wonder that he was our leader at the time.

It seemed that no one cared about running around naked all over the place. We just didn't seem to care. Even Ben stopped wearing his underpants on our off-time. We lounged around in our birthday suits as if it were a nudist resort.

"So, how was it?" Philip asked Scott when his twelve hours were up.

"It was okay," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

But it wasn't him that we were all really curious about. It was Seth. His time was going to be worse. We waited with baited breath to hear from him, but when he walked into the cafeteria that evening, he had a look on his face that meant defeat.

"I never want to go in that room again," he said sitting down at the table.

"That bad?" Alex asked.

"Worse than you can imagine," he said, looking at the table.

"Then this'll help," James said, pushing the other candy bar to him.

Seth looked at the bar and smiled up at James with tears in his eyes. He lost it after a second or two. Whatever had happened to him in that room had not left a mark on his body, but was apparently so horrible that it was just destroying him? Seth cried as hard as ever on James's shoulder. The rest of us looked at each other and, unable to do much else for him, just placed our hands on his back.

"Come on," James said, once Seth settled down a little more. James led him out of the room and into the common area. He got the kid cleaned up and then into his bunk for the night.

The next day, I saw neither James nor Seth at breakfast. When I was done eating, I went looking for them, and found them in the weight room. James was showing Seth a few things to defend himself the next time we had a fight. It wasn't much more than Mr. Routhe had been teaching us, but taking him under his wing showed Simon that he wasn't useless.

On the morning beginning our third week at the facility, we received our vitamin shots from the doctor and then began the day. That afternoon, the training changed. Workout sessions were only an hour long, now, along with swimming. When we were finished, Davenport walked us back into the general area where a new instructor waited for us.

"Line up," he said and we did. "I am Mr. Nelson. Today, you're going to begin learning about different weapons; guns, knives, etc."

"Oh yeah," James said.

A second later, he was on the floor, screaming. The rest of us stood there, not even thinking about wanting to help. I liked James, now, and quite a bit, but getting shocked like that was not what I had in mind for my neck. Nelson made it last incredibly long, in my opinion.

"Get back up in line, James," Nelson said, after turning off the electricity.

James stood back up, but with a lot less enthusiasm. Mr. Nelson walked up to stand in front of him, but he talked loud enough that he had to be addressing all of us.

"What I'm going to be showing you is dangerous. If any of you clown around, joke around, or take this less that absolutely serious, you'll be spending a great deal of time in severe pain. Do you understand?"

There was a smattering of "yeses" throughout the line, but he wasn't satisfied with that.

"In unison, boys," he said, moving his hand to the controller.

"Yes," we chorused.

"Yes sir," he corrected.

"Yes, sir," again, we chorused.

"Good. Now, turn and follow me."

Mr. Nelson was facing my direction, so I was in the lead. He led us to the door between the classroom and the swimming pool. It opened into a hallway which led to another door. On the other side of the door, was a large, open room. It had six targets at the end with six stalls being divided by walls about four feet [1.20 m] taller than we were at that time. He lined us up against the back wall, separated by the door.

"Now, this is the firing range. Here, you'll learn to shoot a weapon; any weapon. You'll learn the differences in them, advantages and disadvantages of each. But, with every weapon, there is one basic rule; always assume that it's loaded. The one time that you think that it isn't, it usually is and some innocent gets killed. And that's usually how people shoot themselves, too."

From there, he picked up a handgun and had us come over to him. James laid back a little, but the rest of us were vastly interested in what he was showing us. He showed us the bullets and the right and wrong way of using a gun. The guns he showed us were of light calibre; light enough for kids to use on their first time. When he was done talking, he had us line back up.

"Odd numbers up to the line first," he continued. I didn't like the sound of that. It wasn't that I was going to be first; it was giving Bull a gun. But, he had a plan.

When we were all up there, he started down the line with me first. He handed me a magazine of bullets and told me to load it into the gun as he'd just showed us. I did. He said to always keep the gun facing down-range. There would be double time in the PR for anyone that didn't comply with that.

"Okay, now, aim it down range, put the butt of the gun in your left hand and hold it in your right." I did as he showed me. "Now put the target in line with the front site and the back site." I did again. "Now, squeeze the trigger, don't pull it."

I did as he said, and a loud "BANG!" went off. Everyone covered their ears. He turned to address all of us.

"Now, I did that to show each of you the importance of hearing protection."

"Man, my ears are still ringing," Alex commented.

"Exactly, Alex, exactly," he said with confidence.

He showed everyone the earmuff hearing protection and all of us put them on. From there, he had to talk to each of us with a louder voice. He told me to keep trying to shoot the target. I did, getting off all eight rounds down range. I had a fairly tight shot group, but it was to the left, with one hole all the way to the right.

"You did very well your first time, Alvin," he said.

"But I didn't hit the centre," I said, almost complaining.

"Well, I didn't expect you to. But, you did get all but one of them in the same general area."

"What was I doing wrong, then?"

"The gun wasn't adjusted to your sights; I'll show you how to do that tomorrow. As far as the other one that went awry, you probably pulled the trigger instead of squeezing it."

I nodded that I understood him. I even sort of remember getting one off faster than the others.

From there, he headed down the range, working with the others just like me. He worked his way back up the line and finished the class with Alex. We all smelled like gunpowder when we were done. All of us were charged up as we left the range. Even James had gotten over his initial encounter with Mr. Nelson. Surprisingly, Seth had done just as well as I had on the exercise and earned himself a merit. It looked as though he might just get through a week without going into the PR.

When we got out of the hallway leading to the range, and into the general room, Nelson led us to the line on the mat. We turned and Nelson waited. A few minutes later, eleven other men walked into the room. Seven were unknown, but Jones, Davenport, Collins, and Routhe were there to round out the dozen. Nelson turned and took his place between Collins and an unknown man that looked older than dirt.

I gulped at the sight of them. There was no way we had to fight them for our supper. No fucking way.

Jones stepped forward with a smile on his face.


	7. Powers

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 6- Powers

"Relax, boys," Jones said, starting off. All of us were eerily quiet; they must have been thinking the same thing I was. "You will not be engaging in any fight tonight. They have been moved to Friday afternoons. It is now time to split you up and begin some individual training.

"From now on, you'll spend at least two hours a day with your personal trainer. He will give you guidance as to what you'll be doing from now on and what your jobs will be later. When your name is called, step forward."

Davenport stepped forward and called Alex to him. The two left for the swimming pool. Collins called Philip to him and then departed for the classroom. A big man that looked like he was made of nothing but solid muscle beckoned Seth to him. The boy looked like the world was about to end. Routhe pulled James into the weight room with him. Jones had Ben follow him out the door that led to the cafeteria.

It went on with Bull being chosen by an older man with a fair amount of grey in his hair. But, he was also buffed up. Leon was paired with a black man that was of fair build. Jeff summoned by a big, fat man with no neck and several chins. They headed for the PR on the left. Remmie left with a man with a military haircut and fatigues on. Scott got a man with a round, friendly face. I kind of envied him. Of the remaining two men, one was younger and the other was Nelson. The younger man called out my name.

"Come with me, Alvin," he said. I nodded and he went towards the right hand PR. I froze outside the doorway. "Relax, you're not going to get punished, but this leads to where we're going."

I breathed a little easier. When we got into the room, I saw that there was nothing special about it, except there were two half-circle hooks bolted to the floor, all four walls, and the middle of the ceiling. Other than that, there was nothing really special about it. Nothing was even in the room itself.

The man led me through it and through the door on the other side. It opened into a hallway similar to the others that I'd seen. The only way to go from here was to the right. We walked down the hall and into another room.

The room looked like a dining room. A long table was in the middle with about ten chairs around it; four on each side and two at the ends. Candelabras were in the centre. The rest of the room was filled with simple elegant items. It was made to look like a fairly wealthy man's dining room, but one that had some discretion and taste.

The man led me to the table and sat down in the chair at the end of it. He was quite handsome, really, standing at least six feet [1.80 m] tall, slim build, light brown hair, blue eyes and a smooth, angular face. At first, he just sat there looking at me.

"Turn around, Alvin," he said. I did as I was told, fearing the electric shock of the collar. "Okay, and continue all the way around to face me." I finished the circle and stood, waiting for whatever came next.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"To learn from you," I said, thinking it was obvious.

"No," he said with a slight smile, "I mean at this facility."

"Oh." I thought about what the past two weeks had been like and the conclusions I'd reached on my own. I wondered if I should tell him of my assumptions or just feign ignorance. I chose the former. "I think we're supposed to be learning to be spies."

"Very good, Alvin," he said, seemingly genuinely impressed. "Agent Jones told me you were smart."

"So, it's true?"

"Yes, but not all of it, and not all of you are going to be spies," he said, confirming what Mr. Collins said about Bull. "But you have a special task to perform. It's my job to not only train you, but also lead you out to where you're going to be going."

"Just what is this 'special task'?"

"Before I answer that, I want to ask you; how long have you known about why you're here?"

"A week ago, Saturday I put it together, but I wasn't totally sure until today in the firing range. Why?"

"Because I wanted to know if you can keep your mouth shut about things without being told to do so."

"I can."

"Yeah, I'm finding that out," he said with a smirk. "Okay, I've been given a wide margin of latitude as far as how to train you. Meaning, that I can pretty much do as I want, within certain limits, of course.

"With that, I'll tell you whatever you want to know, excluding any questions about what the others are going to be doing, or where they're going. But, I warn you, the more information you give to people about your mission, the more you put yourself into danger. Understand?"

I nodded.

"Good. Now, go ahead and ask your questions."

"Can I ask who you are, first?"

He laughed for a few seconds at that question.

"My apologies, Alvin, my name's Hank Powers, but you'll come to call me something else." I looked at him in question. "I'll come to that later." I nodded.

"Now, what's this 'special task'?"

"It kind of goes along with the last answer I gave you." He took a deep breath before going on. "Your job will be to pose as a slave to a man in the Russian government. When the time comes, I'll take you over to Moscow, posing as a business man from here in America, and sell you to him."

"A slave?! I'm supposed to be a slave?" I knew about slavery and what the blacks went through when our country was first formed and I didn't like the sound of this at all. Not one little bit.

"Posing as one, yes."

"Meaning, he can just do whatever he wants with me."

"Probably, yes," he said.

"Are the others doing this, too?"

"I can't answer that, Alvin," he warned.

I stopped, remembering what he said about asking about the others. I wouldn't want any of them knowing about my job, either. Especially Bull; probably sell his mother out for a dollar. I took a deep breath of my own. I was over the shock of what he had initially told me. I now needed to find out specifically what else was involved.

"Okay, what am I going to be doing? Details."

"You sure you want to hear this?"

"I suppose so," I answered, suddenly apprehensively.

"Well, you'll be trained to be a slave, in all forms that are required. You'll know how to serve your master, being me, in every way possible."

"Meaning, what, exactly?"

"Meaning, that you'll know how to do everything from household chores to… things of a sexual nature."

"Sexual nature?"

"Yes. As I said; a slave in every way possible."

"Just what does 'sexual' mean?"

"Oh come now, Alvin, you're a smart kid. What else could I possibly mean by that?"

"You're going to have sex with me?" He nodded. "How?" I knew what sex was, and that there were gay people in the world, but I didn't know the mechanics of it. I was only eight, after all.

"When the time comes, I'm going to fuck you," he said, looking a little put out with my inability to grasp what was coming down the pike. "Right in your cute little butt." That comment came with a smile.

Comprehension slammed into me with the force of a tornado. I backed away from him, suddenly afraid of it all. Jones said what I was going to be doing was dangerous; he didn't say anything about this.

"Don't even think about it, Alvin," Powers threatened.

He pulled out a remote control from his belt it had only two buttons and a lever on it.

"This is tuned to your collar only. Right now, I have it set on the second level. I don't want to use it, but I will if I have to."

I stopped in my tracks remembering the shock from the first day and my classmates that had endured it up till now. There was no way out of this, now. I was stuck.

"I don't have a choice, do I?" I asked him, making sure of it all.

"You had a choice before; when Agent Jones brought you here, but not anymore," he said, but not in a nasty way. It was more just telling me how it was to be.

"What do we do now?" I said, resigned to it.

"From here on out, I'll train you to be a slave. I will be your master. From now on, you'll refer to me as Master or Sir. Understood?" I nodded. That should be easy to remember. "Not good enough; a slave always answers verbally and with the shortest answer possible."

"Yes."

"Always finish a sentence with 'sir'," he said.

"Yes, Sir," I corrected.

"Good boy," he commented as if he were praising a Cocker Spaniel. "Now, first, there are some basic body positions that you need to know. Then, we'll get to serving techniques.

"The first position you already know; a standing-relaxed position. Hands behind your back, head up, shoulders back, stomach in, feet a little bit apart. Remember to always keep your head and eyes facing ahead of you. Some masters do prefer their slaves to look down to the ground; yours might, I don't know."

"Can you find out?"

"One demerit for not finishing the sentence with 'sir'."

"Yes, Sir," I said, thinking about that.

"Also, a slave does not speak unless spoken to first. He is seen, barely, and almost never, ever heard."

"Yes, Sir," I repeated.

"To answer your question, Alvin, no, I don't think I can find out something like that for you. You'll just have to make the judgment call when you get there."

"Yes, Sir."

"Now, the second position is a serving position. You will use this whenever you are delivering anything to your master." There was a chalice on the table next to him and he handed it to me. "First, put your feet and knees together and bend slightly at the waist. Bow your head also and hold out your hands."

I did as he told me and he put the cup in my hands on the palms.

"Do you think that's very sturdy, Alvin?"

"No, Sir," I said, looking at it.

"I didn't say you could move," he informed me and I lowered my head back down. "One more demerit." I grumbled to myself, but knew better than to make a sound. "Grab the cup, slave."

Being called that for the first time, I stuttered. I recovered quickly and grabbed the cup with both hands.

"This is how you give something to me that has liquid in it." He took the cup from my hands and I dropped my hands to my side. "Did I tell you that you could move?"

Yipe! I put my hands back up.

"Another demerit." He put something in my hands, laying it on my palms. "This is how you give me something that's solid. Understand the difference?"

"Yes, Sir," I said, still remembering to face downward.

"Good. The next one is a punishment position. This one will be used should I decide you need a punishment of some sort or another. From the position you're in now; put your hands on your knees. Arch your back downward; this will raise your head up, too."

I did as he directed, hoping that there wouldn't be a time he would use this one. My hope was dashed almost immediately.

"As you're already in this position, let's use it. How many demerits have you gotten, slave?"

"Three, Sir," remembering to answer properly and short.

"Correct. And you'll get five swats for every demerit."

I was so tempted to look to see what he was about to do to me, but I refrained. It wasn't easy. He stood up and walked around behind me. I heard him pick up something and then a sound that resembled wind rushing through my ears came from his direction. A second or two later, the sound came again, but was accompanied by excruciating pain from my butt.

I couldn't help it; I jumped forward and grabbed my butt. Damn, that hurt. I turned to look at him. He was holding a cane that was similar to what the doctor used on her boy. I turned my head to look at my backside and a faint red welt began to rise from the skin.

"Resume your position, slave," he demanded. I shook my head, no.

His hand was on the remote faster than I thought was humanly possible. Less than a second later, I was on the floor screaming and clawing at the collar. The pain was much worse that I felt that first day. Powers kept it going for what felt like the longest time of my life. I'd never known there was ever this level of pain or that it was possible to survive it.

"Resume your position, slave," he repeated after turning off the electricity.

"Yes, Sir," I gasped as I crawled to my hands and knees. I ached all over from that treatment, but I now had to endure even more pain at the mercy of the cane in his hand.

"One more demerit for that little display, and five more swats of the cane," he announced as I assumed the punishment position. I groaned at the unfairness of it all.

The second swat made contact, sending more shards of pain through me. I gritted my teeth at that, but worked to maintain my position. One after another connected with the tender skin of my butt. At the tenth count, tears were falling down my cheeks. At fifteen I didn't think I could bear any more; the pain was more than humanly possible. But, if I moved, it would be five more from that thing, so I stood there, taking it.

The last hit came, and I screamed at it. My whole ass was on fire from that thing.

"Stand up, slave," he commanded and I obeyed, albeit shakingly.

I hissed when I mistakenly touched my enflamed skin with the back of my hand, so I moved it up to rest on the curve of my back. Powers walked around to stand in front of me.

"Do we have an understanding, Alvin?"

"Yes, Sir," I said through my tears.

"Good. There are two more positions for you to learn, but I think I'll wait till tomorrow to show you them. For now, let's review what you've learned."

He ran me through the four different positions several times until he was satisfied with each of them. The last position he had me do was, once again, the punishment position.

"Now, as you now know, I can use this position to punish you, but there is another reason to use it. You're about to find out what it is. If you move while I'm doing this, you'll get another round with the cane and two more demerits. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," I said, knowing I wasn't about to like what he was going to do.

He took his spot behind me again. This time, though, I felt his hand touch my back in an almost lovingly soft manner. Something slick was wiped between my butt cheeks. It didn't feel bad, so I thought that maybe I misjudged what he had in mind. A second later, I found out those thoughts were wrong.

Something began touching the anal barrier. Only the rod in the classroom had touched me there before. He started pushing whatever it was into my backside and into my anal cavity. I groaned and tensed up my legs, but forced myself not to move as the invader continued its trek inside me. The groaning lessened as he withdrew it. Then it was back. He pushed it in, working it with some skill, making sure it went in further, but trying not to cause any undue pain, I supposed. Back and forth he worked it, pushing it farther and farther inside me.

Then, when I thought I couldn't take any more of it, the pain lessened. The thing didn't withdraw, but the pain diminished. I felt full, like in the classroom when the rod is expanded.

"You handled that very well, Alvin; one demerit is removed."

"Can you take back the caning that went with it?" I asked him in my mind.

"You may stand up and look back behind you, now," he said, walking back to stand in front of me.

The first thing I noticed was the severity of the caning; more lines than I cared to count criss-crossed across my butt. The second thing I saw was the back of the thing stuck into me. It was flat and black. I turned back to Powers and assumed the resting position.

"That's a butt plug, and it stays there unless you're using the bathroom," he told me. I had a question, but as I couldn't talk, I just sort of made a difficult face at him. He noticed the conundrum. "Do you have a question?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Ask your question. We'll come up with a signal for that tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir. What about being in classes? The classroom has a rod that goes there."

"Yes, I know. Mr. Collins knows about it and will make an exception for you as long as you remain in your seat for the duration of the class period. If you don't, then you'll have to remove it for class and he'll put the rod back there."

"Yes, Sir. Is that what the rod-!?" I stopped in mid-sentence, realizing that I'd just spoken out of turn. Crying, I just simply turned around and bent over, giving him my backside to punish again.

"No punishment for that one, Alvin," he said, bemused. "We were having a small conversation. But, watch yourself for slips like that in the future."

"Yes, Sir," I said, not moving from where I was.

"And you can turn around, too."

I did and he walked to me. Unexpectedly, he knelt down in front of me. Almost lovingly, he put his hands on the outsides of my shoulders where the arms connect to my body.

"I know I was rough on you today, Alvin, but you have, if not the most, then one of the most dangerous assignments coming. You need to know everything as if it's second nature to you. And we don't have a lot of time to teach you, so you must get things as fast as you can. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir. Can I ask how long we're going to be here training, then?"

"Two years, Alvin. That may seem like a long time, but believe me, it will go by very fast. And all of you have a lot to learn within that timeframe."

"Wow; two years, Sir?"

"Yep."

Powers ran me through the positions one more time and then called it quits for the day. He led me to one of the two remaining doors in the room; the one that was behind the head of the dinner table. He took me to the doctor's office to get my butt looked at. Her boy was kneeling next to her desk with the same gag that was in his mouth from the previous time I was here. Drool was running down from the corners and dripping down his front. He didn't do anything to wipe it off.

The doctor saw that the skin on my butt was broken in only one or two places. She applied an ointment, which stung at the beginning, but felt cool after a few moments. I stood back up after getting treated and the boy and I locked eyes for a briefest of seconds. Understanding flowed between us. Nothing was said.

Powers took me to the door that opened up to the living area. He didn't say anything for a moment.

"Yes, Master?" I asked, thinking that that was the proper way of addressing him at that time.

"Nothing; just have a good night, Alvin. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

With that, he opened the door for me to go through. He looked like he was almost overcome with emotion. I paid it no mind and walked into the room. A few of the others were in the common area. I heard a few of them in the showers. Simon and Scott were both curled up on their beds, dead tired. I walked through the common area to the cafeteria for dinner, not caring who was in the area watching the TV.

"What happened to you?" I heard as I was stepping through the door.

I turned and saw Alex, Ben and Mike sitting there, looking at me. I knew they were looking at the lines on my butt, however, I didn't care. I just went into the cafeteria properly and headed over to the food row.

Bull was at his usual table in the corner of the room. Leon and James were sitting down at our usual table talking over their meals. They saw what the others had seen as I walked to the food. The three from the common area followed me and sat at the table with James and Leon, waiting for me to arrive.

"So, what happened?" Mike asked again.

"I had some trouble following instructions," I answered, not elaborating.

"That's not like you," James reported.

"It was today," I said as I sat down, but then stood back up in a second. I just couldn't sit down on my butt. I wondered how I was going to get through the next day's classes.

"So, who was your instructor?" Alex asked.

"Mr. Powers," I said while trying to eat standing up.

"What the hell did he do to you?" James asked.

"Yeah, and what is that thing up your butt?"

"Let it go, guys! Please?!" I asked, getting frustrated with them for the first time. I threw my fork down on the food I was trying to eat. Crying, but trying to hold back the tears, I sat down on the seat hard. I shot back up, shrieking at the pain I'd just put myself through.

I couldn't sit down, and I didn't want to stand up. Tears of frustration fell. I'd gotten myself into something that I didn't want to continue, but there was no way out of it, now. I was just as stuck as my comrades.

"I…I'll see you guys in the morning," I choked out and left them at the table.

As I still somewhat smelled like gun smoke, I headed for the showers. Jeff, Philip, and Remmie were the ones in there. Jeff saw the marks on me but returned to his shower as if it happened every day. Philip and Remmie also saw them, but even though they didn't say anything, they couldn't stop looking, either.

That night, I crawled into bed, sore, aching, and beaten, knowing I'd made a mistake in choosing to come with Agent Jones. But, like a fly in a spider's web, I was trapped.


	8. Chapter 8

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 7-Confrontation

Mr. Collins woke us up way too soon, for my tastes. I usually wasn't one for complaining, but as my butt was still sore, I groaned. Achingly, I crawled from my cage to face a new day in hell. Most of us were in the same boat; sore. However, no one had endured what I had gone through with Powers. No one else's butt looked like a fucking waffle-iron.

No one asked me about it. Seth wasn't one to ask about something like that. And Scott was not one of our groups, so he didn't bother either. The rest of them had already seen me and knew I was not up for talking about it.

"All of you look as sore as I do," I said, taking my seat with our group.

My butt stung, however, I was able to sit down without too much discomfort.

"Yeah," James said, stretching out his arms.

"At least you don't have something stuck up your butt," I chided. The rest of them snickered.

"Yeah, what is that thing, anyway?" Leon asked.

"It's a butt plug; something like the rods in the classroom. Anyway, I gotta wear the thing from now on."

"Till when?" James asked.

"Till Mr. Powers takes it out," I told them, shrugging my shoulders.

"How do you, like, take a shit?" Leon again.

"First, I sit on your face," I countered. All of them guffawed loudly. Even Leon. "And then grunt." More laughter.

After breakfast, things felt a little better. I had to use the bathroom, as Leon's question would dictate, and had to remove the damn thing from back there. It hurt removing it, because some of the lubricant Powers had put on it had washed and evaporated away. But, I did what I had to do and pulled it out. I did my business, washed off the plug (as Powers told me to do), and replaced it. It hurt just as much going back in as it did coming out. However, I wasn't about to get any more demerits for not doing what I was told.

Speaking of demerits, though, I wasn't alone. Almost all of them had gotten at least two from their respective instructors, so I didn't feel too bad about my performance with Powers. Only Seth had escaped with one demerit.

Collins led us to the classroom, where the rod on my seat had indeed been removed.

"Lucky you," James replied as we took our seats.

"I'll trade you any day, James," I shot back with, showing him my backside.

"Never mind."

The first set of classes went by without incident. The metal of the desk wasn't too bad on my bruised backside, so I didn't fidget all that much. Mr. Collins only had to get onto me once about it. It wasn't until the second class period of the day that something went wrong. And it wasn't with me.

"Mr. Collins, can I go use the bathroom, please?" Remmie asked.

"No, Remington. Stay in your seat until it's time to leave."

"But, sir, I really have to go," he sort of whined.

"You're not going anywhere. And if you piss on my floor, you'll be cleaning it up."

Remmie nodded, but didn't look all too sure of himself that he could hold it for another forty-five seconds, let alone that amount of time in minutes. Sure enough; not five minutes later, liquid could be heard running out and down on to the floor. Mr. Collins stopped the class for it.

"Get up, Remington," he said after deflating the balloon in his butt.

"Yes, Sir," he said, clearly embarrassed.

"Clean it up. Now, boy."

"Yes, Sir," he said, but then looked confused. Mr. Collins hadn't given him anything to clean it up with. "But…"

"What do you clean with?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Your tongue," he said simply. "Now, get busy."

All of us were stunned by that one. Remmie got down on his hands and knees, but only eyed the puddle he'd made. It took a shock from his collar and a couple of minutes writhing in pain before he complied in licking up his own urine.

Remmie may not have been in 'my group', but I felt sorry for him anyway. Not only did he have to slurp up his own piss, but he got three demerits; two for the accident and one for hesitating. He was significantly subdued when lunchtime came around.

At the firing range, he did poorly as well. Nelson was teaching us how to adjust the sites on the guns we were using. I tracked mine the wrong way the first time, but made up for it the second. By the end of the two hours, the small pistol I was using was perfectly sighted for me.

The other men met us in the general room again, but this time we just paired off and split up.

"Take a quick shower, Alvin," he said, "you smell like gunpowder."

"Yes, Sir."

I took my shower and then we headed off to the fake dining room again. He showed me the next two positions he wanted me to learn. The first one was a kneeling position, which was easy. I was to simply kneel down and sit back on the heels of my feet. My hands went on my thighs. I had to remember to also hold my head up and shoulders back.

"The last one is an inspection position," he said, once I'd mastered that one. "Stand up with your feet a little wider than your shoulders." I did as he said, looking down at my feet and then back up. "Hands behind your neck, with your elbows back as far as possible without going past your hands." I put them where he directed, and he wanted them farther back, so I did. "A little more." I did. "Head up, Alvin." I complied.

He had me in that position for a long time, correcting me every time I moved my arms. I had to maintain perfect position without moving. After that, he took me through drills that reinforced what I'd learned of all the positions. When he was done, I'd cycled through them all at least five times.

"Well done, Alvin," he said. "One merit for that."

"Thank you, Master," I answered back. He seemed to like being called that than called "sir". I just had to remember not to call him that or refer to him like that with the others.

"Now, get down on all-fours," he said finally.

I did as I was told and he knelt down next to me. He moved one hand to rest on my back. The other hand moved back to my butt, now down to just a dull ache, and began playing with the butt plug. He grabbed it and would pull it out a little, but then let it slide back inside me. Back and forth, he worked the plug along my anal muscle.

"UH!" I cried when, all at once, the plug was pulled out.

Powers didn't stop there. He worked it back inside to its widest point and held it there, making me feel it at its worst. I squirmed through the whole thing, but he kept it in its place. Finally, it was slurped back up inside me for the night. Now, not only were my butt cheeks sore, my hole was also, but I wasn't about to complain about it.

"Well, you made it through your lesson without any more marks," James commented as I walked into the common room.

"How observant of you," I retorted. "Glad to see you keep track of things going on with my butt."

James laughed with the others as we walked into the cafeteria together. I found out that Seth's trainer's name was Nash. And according to Seth, he wasn't mean, just demanding of him. Simon said he actually liked him.

"Seth probably wishes he could say the same thing about his trainer," Leon assumed.

"Definitely," I agreed. If I argued with them, they might think something was strange about Powers and myself, so I just went along with the conversation.

"Well, I found out Mr. Charles and I are from the same area in Chicago," Leon admitted.

"Sort of neighbours, then," James suggested.

"Something like that."

"So, you want to tell us what happened, Alvin?" Mike asked.

"It was a cane," I told them. "Twenty times."

"Ouch," James commented.

"Ya think?" I asked him back. The others laughed along, but James turned a little serious.

"What I meant, was, that I got five of those from a teacher once. I know what they feel like."

We continued talking into the night there in the cafeteria. When we finally made our way back to get into bed, I checked the scores. Frighteningly, I was third, with only two points behind Jeff and five behind James. Remmie was now in total last place.

I knuckled down the next two days to get those points. James did poorly over those two days on the firing range. With my points from there, I moved ahead of him and only one point behind Jeff. Simon was somewhere in the middle, and unless a catastrophe occurred, he'd be staying out of the PR this week. Alex was close to the bottom, but not in any real danger of getting into trouble. Remmie had really dug himself into a hole. Scott and Philip, of all people, were battling it out for tenth place. My money was on Philip. Scott was never one that impressed me with any intelligence.

On that Thursday, Seth and I moved on to the next handgun, which was a larger one; a nine-millimetre semi-automatic pistol. This one was a real gun. I just remembered my lessons and fired at the target. By the day's end, I nailed the centre of the target nineteen out of twenty times with the larger gun. And gained another point of merit in the process.

Friday morning's tests were fairly easy. I was done with them faster and anyone else, excluding James. I knew it wasn't about speed, but accuracy. Either way, I knew I'd done well on them. Lunch was normal, but I was sort of on edge. I really was curious about my grades.

After the language studies, we were taken to the firing range for our tests there. I passed it with flying colours. All twenty shots were dead-on in the centre. I had to laugh, because James was horrible at shooting. It was nice to know he was actually human, too.

Following the test on the range, we were led back to the general workout room. All of our individual trainers were there waiting for us. We lined up before them. Jones stepped out to address us.

"Okay, today's fight is a group battle. You're going to be split up into two groups again, but this time, it'll be a little more mixed up. When I call your number, move to my left, your right.

"Numbers one, four, six, ten, eleven, and twelve. The rest go to my right."

Ben and Philip kind of groaned at having to be in the group with Seth, but I wasn't worried. Seth had been working hard this past week and was going to do everything possible to stay out of the PR. True, he was ahead in the points, and even a loss with this fight wasn't enough to set him back too badly, but I still wasn't too sure he was going to lose.

"I've got an idea, guys," I said, once we were to the side.

"Okay, let's hear it," Philip asked, while glancing at Simon; concerned.

I looked at Seth first.

"Okay, Seth, you know that Bull's going to be coming for you, don't you?" Seth nodded. "Do you think you can keep him busy for a little while?"

"I think so," he said, but was a little worried, himself.

"Then keep him busy for as long as you can." I then turned to Jeff. "I think James is going to come after you. Stay as close to Seth as you can. I know you can handle James. Take him down as fast as possible."

"Not a problem."

"When you're done, help Seth with Edweirdo." They sort of snickered and Jeff nodded.

"From there, it's going to be kind of sketchy."

"What do you mean?" Ben asked.

"I'm not sure who James is going to have going up against whom, but I think he'll assign Alex to me."

"You're letting him tell us who to fight?" Jeff asked.

"Only because I don't think he knows what he's doing. Remember, he's the one that is going to be coming after you."

"Oh yeah," Ben said, remembering the last 'fight'.

"I can take Alex, but the rest are going to have to keep the others busy until help arrives." They all nodded. "We good?"

They nodded again. Seth was nervous, but I chucked him on the shoulder for luck. He smiled, trying to calm himself down. We broke from our huddle and waited for the word. James had indeed been giving orders to the others. They broke from theirs. The twelve of us waited for the signal from Jones.

Even before Jones said anything I knew I was right in my assessment. Bull was looking right at Seth; a given. But James was eyeing Jeff and Alex was giving me a hard look, too. I still wasn't too sure of the others, yet, but I didn't have to wait long to see how things line up.

"GO!" And it was on.

I moved a little away from Seth and just before Alex arrived to take me on, I tripped Bull, causing him to crash to the mat. That had two effects; one, giving Seth the help he needed, and two, it distracted Alex for a split second. I took advantage of that and punched him as hard as I could right in the mouth. With three weeks of working out behind me, muscle had begun to firm up and his nose began spouting blood faster than ever.

He wasn't going to let just one hit take him out, though, and tried to hit back, but he was seeing stars and missed on two attempts. I eluded the swings, and nailed his diaphragm, stealing the air from his lungs. One more connection to his mouth, and he was begging for it to stop.

I didn't wait. I turned right to the Bull/Seth fight. Seth was actually holding his own. Jeff had just taken out James as well. We looked at each other and smiled as we both jumped on Bull. Bull's fist made a lucky hit and got me in the jaw, but Jeff covered my momentary daze with a punch of his own. Seth closed in and took him by surprise with a hit to the stomach. Two more punches from Jeff and one more from both Seth and me, and Bull was done.

We turned and looked at the rest to see who to help. Leon had just taken out Ben, but he had a problem. Mike had made a final working of Scott and Remmie had just surrendered to Philip. The five of us just looked at Leon.

"Oh shit," he said, looking back at us. We just smiled. "No way; I give!"

"You niggers give up way too quickly," I chided him as I walked over to him. He laughed and we hugged.

"Hey! Even niggers can count. I knew it was eight on one."

The group shared another laugh at Leon's expense and then lined up before Jones and the other instructors. Simon was almost impossible to hold down.

"You six did real well," he said, beginning. "I wouldn't have picked you to win, but you did. Well done." I got a quick wink from Powers as he was standing in front of me. I smirked back. I was also kind of hard to settle down after that win.

"Now, the test scores," Collins said, and began reading them off to us. I'd scored a ninety-six on one and a one hundred on another. Both Jeff and James had scored two one hundreds, but they weren't enough for James to pass me in the points. I'd taken second place and Jeff was still in line for first. But, we still had our lessons with our personal trainers to go through.

"Feeling pretty good about yourself right about now, aren't you?" Powers asked once we were in our room.

"Yes, Master," I said, working hard on not smirking.

"Today's lesson is going to be easy." I raised my eyebrows at that. "Question?" I'd forgotten that doing that was my way of asking for permission to ask a question.

"No, Master, I was just surprised at getting an easy lesson."

"Oh, I see. Well, I figured I'd reward you for an excellent week."

"Yes, Sir; thank you, Sir."

He nodded and had me follow him into another room. The door we went through was across the dining room from the door we usually enter through. I got another shock when I saw this new area. It was a plush bedroom.

In the middle of the room against the far wall was a huge four-poster bed. The linens on it looked to be softer than anything I'd ever seen. The rest of the room was decked out extremely nicely. Coming from an orphanage, I'd never seen anything this nice before.

"Wow," I commented. And then froze.

"Punishment position, Alvin," he said, disappointedly.

"Yes, Sir," I answered.

I assumed the position and he took the cane to me for five hard licks. And my butt was just getting back to normal, too. Now, it had five fresh lines on it. Life just wasn't fair. The demerit wasn't going to hurt me in the points. I would have to royally screw up for anything to change that, but it was my butt that I was most concerned with.

"Now, I want you to get up on to the bed and lay on your back," he said after putting the cane away.

"Yes, Master," I answered automatically.

I climbed up onto the bed and turned over to lie on my back. I didn't know what to do with my hands in this situation, so I just let them rest at my sides. A few minutes later, Powers climbed onto the bed, stripped down to his underpants.

"Turn and look at me, Alvin," he said lying down next to me. I did as he told me. "Have you ever played with your dick?" he asked, pointing down to my little wiener.

"No, Sir," I answered. I knew what he was talking about from some of the other kids in the orphanage.

"Well, today, you're going to learn why sex is enjoyed. For the duration of this little lesson, you may move however you wish, but remain lying on your back."

"Yes, Sir." I was deeply curious about sex and why it was so conversationalized. Why did all the other boys talk about it so much? Why were there talk shows devoted to this topic? I supposed that I was about to find out.

He motioned for me to roll back over. From there, he took over. Kisses were delivered to my young nipples, one at a time. He tracked all the way down my body, raining gentle kisses all the way. It felt good, but I was still missing the point of sex. Until he kissed the head of my dick.

My member jumped at the sensation of his lips touching the head.

"Ohhh," I hummed out loud, and then caught my mistake. My hands flew to my mouth.

"It's okay, Alvin, you may voice your pleasures as well for this lesson," Powers told me.

"Thank you, Sir," I sighed, relieved.

He went back to my hardening dick and kissed down its length. I felt him move his hands to rest in the crack between my legs and then pressure them to move apart. I did as he was quietly insisting. His mouth then engulfed both of my family jewels in one quick motion.

"OHHH! Wow!" The feeling caused me to open my legs even wider and arch my back. It was the most wonderful feeling that I'd felt by far.

His tongue rolled them around in his mouth for a while before spitting them out. From there, though, the feelings increased as he vacuumed my boyhood next. I groaned out in ecstasy, having something that warm surround it. Involuntarily, my hands moved to his head and began running through his hair. The feelings were just so intense that I just didn't really know what I was doing. Then he began playing with my butt plug.

"OH, GOD," I cried as the widest point of the plug passed the anal membrane.

Euphoric highs kept hitting me until every nerve fibre in my body was standing on end and screaming. I screeched out in pure joy at the intense feelings. It was as if joy was something tangible that I could touch and feel. I'd never known that something could feel that good.

"How did that feel?" He asked, once I was calming down.

"There aren't words, Master," I answered, smiling at the memory.

We lay there resting for a few more minutes before I thought about what had just happened. I looked down at him in question.

"Yes?"

"Do you want me to do that to you, Master?"

"I'm not sure you can, Alvin," he told me.

"But, do you, Sir?"

Powers thought about it, but declined.

"Not today, Alvin. We'll work on all of that at a later time. This lesson was for you. Now that you know how it feels, you'll understand why it's done and done to you."

"Yes, Sir," I said. I wasn't disappointed, as I wasn't sure if I could do it for him.

My lesson ended faster than any of the others. So, I was back in the common area first. I got to watch a little television before they began filtering in. James, Leon and I laughed at the results of the fight at dinner that evening. But, James had a different look on his face; he'd changed a little. He also wasn't as brash as usual.

Jones handed out the rewards to me and Jeff. Jeff put his twelve into his box, again not touching one of them. I wondered if he still had the other dozen in there. I shared with our group, as James had done before. But I broke mine in half and took the other half to Remmie.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"To get the taste of piss out of your mouth," I replied. Even he laughed at the joke, but declined the candy.

"That's okay, Alvin. I'd rather earn the bars. Thanks, though."

"You're sure?"

He nodded, so I took the half back from him. Scott went for his second round in the PR and Remmie went for his first. Something about Jeff caught my eye at that moment; a faint red line right around where his collar rested. He seemed okay with it, so I didn't say anything.

The next day, I slept in a little before greeting the morning. By the time I'd gotten up, everyone else was gone. No one was watching Saturday morning cartoons, which was odd. I had the fleeting thought that they'd abandoned me, but I heard some noises in the bathroom. So, I wasn't alone.

I headed into the room, mainly for my morning piss, but the noises weren't exactly normal. As I turned the corner from the sinks to the toilet area, I saw Seth sitting on the toilet and gagging on Bull's dick. From the looks of things, he certainly was not enjoying blowing the boy's cock.

Rage surged through me. I rushed Bull with everything I had, knocking him to the floor. But, I didn't stop there. I was on top of him and landed punch after punch after punch over as much of his body as I could connect with. He swung back, but I dodged his swings easily.

"You will NOT touch him again! You got that, you shithead?!" I screamed at him.

More punches connected with his face.

He tried to yell back at me, but I wasn't listening. I just kept hitting him time and time again. I do remember yelling back, but it was incoherent things.

"You fucking shitbag! Goddamn, fucking son of a whorefucker!" I just kept spouting off things that I'd heard on television and connecting them in different ways.

At some point in my assaulting, my collar began shocking me, but I barely even felt it. The surge got stronger, but I ignored it. Other people's shouts filled the room, but my ears tuned it all out. I only wanted to kill the kid lying under me. Something grabbed me around the waist at one point and began pulling me off Bull. I wiggled out of the grasp and continued pummelling the now unconscious kid.

It took a jolt of electricity, the likes of which I'd never thought possible from my collar, to get me to stop. The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor of the bathroom, gasping for air. It was the first time that I was really aware of others around me.

Jones and Bull's trainer, a Mr. Smith, were over looking at the lump of flesh that was once Edward Ransom. James and Leon were kneeling next to me. Seth was still sitting on the toilet. The others were standing back as far away as possible.

Jones and Smith picked up Bull and ran him out of the area. I scowled as they left. Powers ran into the room as they exited. He looked at me and I knew I was in for it.


	9. Anticipation

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 8-Anticipation

"Okay, what happened?" Jones asked.

Powers, Jones, and Smith were seated in the office we were in. Jones was behind the desk, Smith was to the left side, and Powers was to the right. All three of them had their attentions on me. I was standing in the relaxed pose before them, but I was still seething.

"Well?" Jones prodded.

I kept quiet.

"Answer him, Alvin," Smith commanded.

He was pissed because his student was going to be out of action for a while. How long, we still weren't sure. The doctor was still checking him out in her office. Privately, I was hoping he had died.

"What does it matter? I know the penalty for fighting." I said it while looking him dead in the eye.

"It matters, because we have to know how to handle it, Alvin," Jones said, calmly.

"Handle it? How do you mean?"

"What I mean, is, what reasons were there to do what you did to Edward? If you didn't have just cause to beat him like that, then the penalty is going to be worse than if you did. Now, why did you do it?"

I kept quiet again.

"ANSWER HIM, BOY!" Smith fairly shouted, getting even angrier.

"No, Sir," I said back to him.

"NO?"

"No," I stated flatly.

Smith was about to come unglued, but I was still so pissed off that I didn't care. As he was about to get out of his chair, Jones grabbed his wrist. Smith slowly, angrily sat back down.

"Why not, Alvin?" Jones asked.

"I will not answer unless my master asks me himself or orders me to." I figured that they all knew who I would be referring.

All three of them were stunned by that answer. The reactions after that were interesting. Smith got even more red-faced, Jones still had his look of surprise, but Powers had a smirk on his face.

"Give the little shit to me for five minutes, Steve, I'll make him talk," Smith growled.

"That wouldn't do anyone any good, Nate," Jones said blankly.

Jones continued looking at me, judging the situation, I gathered. Time didn't move very fast in those few minutes. It seemed to stretch out like a long, agonizing test. Then Jones turned to Powers.

"He's your responsibility, Hank," Jones said to him. "I leave this in your hands."

"WHAT? That's it?" Smith almost screamed, standing up. "My kid was assaulted in the worse way, and you're letting his trainer handle it? What kind of shit is this?"

"Agent Jones," I said, cutting him off all of a sudden as he was about to answer.

"Yes, Alvin?" He seemed amused that I would speak up right then.

"Why did you pick me for this program?"

"Because you had potential. You answered the right questions with the right answers, and you acted in a manner that I approved of."

"And why else?"

"I don't get what you're implying."

"Would you have taken me if I had said anything to anyone at the orphanage?"

Now he saw where I was going with this. Powers was also quite impressed; his face showed it. But I kept most of my attention on Jones; he seemed to be the one in charge of the others. Powers may be playing the part of my master, but Jones outranked him. Smith stopped his rampage as well.

"He's yours to handle, Hank," Jones said finally.

Powers nodded and motioned for me to follow him out of the office. We didn't talk the entire length of the hallway. It wasn't until we got into the fake dining room and Powers sat down that he began talking.

"Okay, relax, Alvin," he said and I took a deep breath. Over the past week when he started off with telling me to relax meant that I wasn't in trouble. "While we're here right now, you don't have to refer to me in a formal manner."

"Thank you, Sir, but I guess I'm okay with it now."

It took just a week's worth of hard training, but I was trying hard to accept my role in all of this. I knew there were things about all this that I didn't know, but I'd accepted at least parts of things. Plus, Powers had earned my respect during the course of this time, and that went a lot farther than anything else. I still wasn't too sure about whatever else was coming, but up to that point, I'd consented to my position and training.

"Very well, then," he said, smiling. "Now, tell me what happened in the bathroom with Edward."

I took another deep breath and told him all that I saw and experienced in that room. Everything from Seth and Bull to recovering on the tile floor afterward. The story took a few minutes to tell, but when it was over, I felt better. It wasn't that I was glad I'd done that to Bull, just getting the whole weight off my chest.

"What's going to happen to me, Master?" I asked when I was finished.

"From what you told me, I'd say Edward was at fault and you were taking up for Seth. I'll talk to Steve and we'll go from there. Don't worry about it for the rest of the weekend. I'll have him talk to Nathan about all that happened. I'm sure it'll be okay.

"But, why didn't you just tell him that in the office? It would have been fine to tell them."

"Because of the test that Agent Jones gave me back home. The first question asked how I would handle a situation like that. I answered that I would seek revenge on the person. That wasn't why I attacked Bull, but that was why I didn't tell them the story."

"I know the question you're talking about. I have to say that I am impressed with you. A lot." And he seemed it, too. "Now, let's get you back so you can try to enjoy the rest of the weekend."

I raised my eyebrows at him.

"Yes?"

"Do you know what they did to get me off him? All I know is that I was really dazed."

"From what Steve told me, after you squirmed out of his grasp-"

"-that was him?" I asked, interrupting. I stopped in horror; a definite no-no. A slave never interrupts his master. And I knew that. "I'm sorry, Master."

"I'll deal with it in a moment, slave," he said, significantly dark. "But, yes, it was Steve that was trying to get you off Edward. He said that he had to use the highest setting on the collar. You weren't stopping with anything else."

"I felt the collar, but it didn't hurt. Why did that happen?"

"Probably because you were so high on adrenalin that it didn't faze you. I've heard that can happen."

"Do you know how high he had it on before?"

"Seventh."

"Wow," I said to myself. I guess I was pretty pissed off not to feel that.

"Punishment position, Alvin," he said gruffly.

"Yes, Master," I said, knowing I deserved it.

"Wait," he said as I assumed it. "I have a better idea."

I wasn't too sure I was going to like his 'better idea', but I followed him into the fake bedroom. He had me lay face-down on the bed with my arms stretched out towards the headboard. He took his place behind me at the foot of the bed. The faint whisper of the cane whistled through the air and made vertical contact with my right butt cheek. I gripped the covers of the bed at the pain and anticipation of the next hit. The second one landed on the left one. And he alternated back and forth with the cane until he had a total of ten vertical lines marking up my butt's skin.

When he was through, he led me back to the common area. Once I stepped through, I saw nine preteen heads swivel around to look at me.

"Oh, great," I commented. Powers motioned for me to go on and I did.

"Hi," I said as I entered the room properly. All they could do was laugh.

"So, what's going to happen?" James asked.

"With me or Bull?"

"Both."

"I don't know about Bull. As far as what's going to happen to me, Mr. Jones is going to talk to me about it on Monday."

"So, you've got a stay of execution," Mike offered.

"A what?" I asked.

"It means that they're not going to kill you till Monday," James explained.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Is Bull alright?" Seth asked.

"Why are you asking that question?" I asked, turning towards him with a bit of anger directed at him. "After what he was making you do, you should be glad he's in the doctor's office."

"I was just asking, okay?"

"No, it's not 'okay', Seth."

"What was he doing, anyway?" Mike asked.

I shot Seth a look.

"No one's asked," he said, shrugging.

"Well then, do you want to tell them, or should I?" Seth shrugged again. "Fine. He was forcing Seth to suck his dick. And he's probably been doing it for a while. Am I right?"

Everyone looked at Seth as he nodded bashfully.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Seth," James told him. "He was the one doing something wrong. Not you."

"Unless you wanted him to," I suggested.

"NO! I DIDN'T!" Seth screamed and jumped off the couch at me. I leaned over the back of the one that was in front of me to look him in the eye.

"I know you didn't, Seth, that's why I hit him," I said softly.

"You did more than that," James countered. Several snickers broke out from that.

"Then why did you just suggest that I wanted him to do that?"

"Because the next time he does it, I want you to remember that and handle it yourself. I'm not going to stop it again. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," he answered, in a more thankful manner.

"Good."

I turned and headed into the cafeteria for something to eat.

"What happened there?" James asked.

"Huh?" I asked, and then saw where he was looking.

"Looks like a checker board," Mike suggested. Several more giggles there.

"I'm glad everyone can make fun of my butt," I said with a smirk. "But, to answer you, James, I forgot something when I was with Mr. Powers."

"Is that all he does is hit you?" Alex questioned.

"No." And I wouldn't say anything more about it.

While Bull was in the doctor's office and Remmie was in the PR, we had some fun. For the morning, it was playing in the pool. That afternoon, we hit the weight room for a while, and then the common area for some television. Remmie rejoined us that evening for dinner.

"You should have been here, Remmie," Ben started when he sat down for dinner.

"Yeah, well, I was busy," he retorted. After the laughter died down, he asked why.

"Because Alvin beat the shit out of Edweirdo. It was great."

"I'm glad someone enjoyed it," I commented to my group, accompanied by the usual sniggers.

"He was like a madman, going off on the guy," Philip added. "Not even getting shocked from the collar would stop him."

"That reminds me," James asked, "what setting did Mr. Jones use on you, anyway? Because whatever he was using, it didn't work until he hit the highest one."

"Mr. Powers told me that they tried the seventh setting first."

"No way," Scott put in.

"That's what he said," I told him with a shrug.

The whole group was as stunned as I was when Powers told me.

The conversation then went through everything that had happened for Remmie's benefit. Everyone turned in at about nine or so, but I was kind of concerned about the next few days. It took some time before I slipped into dreamland.

Bull didn't return the next day, either. I wondered if I had actually killed him. The whole day was fairly depressing for me. That night was also subdued, trying to get to sleep, knowing that tomorrow, my fate would be decided.

"Good Morning," Collins said as he opened the doors to the cages. I crawled out to see his too-chipper face. "Everyone line up, please." We did as we were told. "Now, everyone but Alvin turn and follow me to breakfast."

"Oh, wonderful."

All of them turned to file out, except Seth.

"You too, Seth," he said, seeing him facing the same direction as me.

"I'm staying. Alvin's in trouble because he was sticking up for me."

Now, this was something interesting. Seth had definitely changed. Normally, he wouldn't be doing something like this.

"Me too," James added. "Bull was wrong in doing that. I'm staying too." James turned back to stand the way he was previously.

One by one, every one of them turned back to stand in line. Even Scott and Jeff stayed. To say I was touched would have been an understatement. All of them were risking Collins's ire by doing it, not to mention electric shocks, but they did it anyway.

Collins didn't say anything, but he didn't make them do anything, either. He just waited with us for whatever came down. We didn't have to wait long. Jones walked in the room a few minutes later, with Smith trailing along behind him.

"Oh shit," was the only thought that went through my preteen mind right then.

"What's going on?" Jones asked Collins as he took his place before us.

"The rest of them are volunteering to stay and share in Seth's punishment," Collins explained.

"Oh, I see," Jones said, amused. "Well, with the circumstances being what they are, I'm sorry, but I can't allow this. So, you boys have a choice. Either go with Mr. Collins to class, or crawl there in agony."

"Go on, guys," I said. I didn't want them to suffer because of me. "I'll be fine." They all looked at me and I nodded to reassure them. I looked Simon square in the eye and nodded especially.

They had their doubts, but turned towards Collins and left the room. I took another deep breath as the door closed behind them. Jones and Smith turned towards me once the room was empty.

"Well, that was certainly interesting," Jones stated. Yep.

"Get on with it, Steve," Smith told him. Jones gave him a look that froze him solid.

"We do have a problem now, don't we?" Jones asked, turning his attentions to me.

"We do?" I asked back to him.

"Okay, you do. And keep comments like that to yourself, Alvin." I nodded that I would. "Good. Now, you've displayed a lot qualities that typify what we're looking for in one of our operatives; strength, loyalty, discretion, and tenacity."

I only understood about half of that little speech. But, I didn't interrupt. I wasn't sure where he was going with this, yet. I wanted to find that out before I said anything.

"But," he said, continuing, "We can't have you guys fighting all the time."

"We do every Friday now."

"That's different, Alvin. That's in a controlled environment where a trainer can stop it if things get out of hand, like they did with you and Edward."

"So, what should I have done, then? Just let him continue doing what he was doing?"

"No; you should have come and told one of us."

"And it would have been his word against mine."

"Plus, the boy, Seth's word," Smith threw in.

"Seth was scared of him. He wouldn't have stood up to him."

"I'm not here to debate the issue with you, Alvin," Jones said, getting a little irritated, "I'm here to tell you of my decision." He took a breath to settle himself back down again.

"For the next four weeks, you'll take the place of the person spending Friday night in the punishment room, as if you were second-to-last place. And should you place anything lower than sixth, you'll take the twelfth person's place and be in there all day Saturday.

"Also, each week will get progressively worse, as if you actually earned the punishment through your points. Any questions?"

"No, Sir," I said, a bit dejected. I was working towards never spending any time in that room. I guess I was about to find out what the others had experienced beforehand. And why Seth acted so differently after the second time.

"When the four weeks are over, though, it'll be reset. In other words, if you do actually place eleventh or twelfth, it'll be as if you never went in there."

I nodded that I understood and then he sent me on to breakfast. Everyone looked at me, but I didn't say a word about anything Jones had told me. James asked, but I declined to answer. I wasn't about to give anyone any added incentive to do better. I didn't think they would do it out of viciousness, but the temptation to take advantage of my situation would be there.


	10. Payment

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 9- Payment

"Feel better, Alvin?" Powers asked after just giving me the second blowjob of my young life.

"Yes, Master," I said, smiling. I lay there trying to calm down from my euphoric high as he moved up to lie next to me.

We stayed like that for a while. It felt good. I looked down to see his dick was hard. I thought about how this was the second time he'd done this for me. Making up my mind, I rolled over to look him in the face.

"Do you want me to take care of you, Master?"

"Do you think you can?"

"I can try, Sir," I offered.

"Then go ahead and try," he said, rolling backwards to lie on his back.

I took a deep breath, gathering up my courage, and moved my hand down his body to his briefs. I slowly ran it over the cotton, feeling his manhood. It was almost as electric as my collar. The feeling was so alive; so potent.

I began lowering his briefs down to uncover what he had waiting for me. He rose up a little to let the garment slip down, but otherwise let me do the work. Once his briefs were on the floor, I turned back to his groin. And stopped. Where his nuts were supposed to be, there was only a scar.

"That's why I'm your trainer, Alvin," he said, startling me out of my stare.

"Can I ask what happened, Master?"

"It happened when I was on assignment. My cover was blown and I was tortured."

"I'm sorry, Master," I said, now believing that this had to be hard, and too personal, for him to talk about with anyone.

"Don't apologize, Alvin. As I said, this is why I was chosen to train you. You're going to be on one of the most dangerous assignments that we have. And this is the price you pay for a mistake. I got lazy and comfortable in my assignment and was discovered. Always keep your head about you and never get complacent or you could pay the same price I did."

"Yes, Sir," I said, still staring at the area, but not wanting to at the same time. "How did you make a mistake?"

"I slipped up and said something that only a spy would know. I told a person near me that the master of the house knew something about the government. That person ratted me out to him. They took me when I was asleep one night. I didn't see daylight for almost a year."

I knew enough not to ask what they did to him. That had to be too personal to talk about, so I let that drop. But there was something I was dying to know.

"How old were you, Master?"

"I was nineteen when they did that to me," he said nodding towards his own groin. He motioned for me to come to him and I did so without hesitation. Once I was close, he pulled me into a fierce hug and I straddled his chest. "You remember me always, and remember what could happen should you make a mistake, Alvin."

I now understood what Jones meant by 'dying badly'. There really are things worse than simply dying.

"I will, Hank," I said sincerely. I pulled back and gave him a kiss. I don't know why I did it; I just did. It felt right at the time. "Thanks for being my trainer.

"And I really am sorry it happened," I told him, very sincerely.

"If my mistake can teach you and others like you not to make the same mistake, then I can live with it. Although I think my parents are disappointed."

"Really?" I asked, wiping my face of a lone tear.

"Yeah; they wanted grandkids."

We shared a laugh and another hug. To this day, I have never forgotten that lesson. And I still have my nuts to show for it.

"Do you still want me to take care of you, Master?" I asked, getting back into the part.

"Yes. And do it quickly, slave," he growled, but had a smirk.

"Yes, Sir," I answered back. "Only, how do I do it, Master?"

"I was wondering if you were going to ask that question."

With Power's guidance, I began giving my first blowjob. It wasn't going to be my last; that much was for certain. I kissed down his body to his chest. I paid attention to each nipple. There was a little hair around each of them, but nothing that got caught in my teeth. He seemed to like my attentions there, so I worked them for as long as he liked.

Soon, I got the feeling he wanted me to move onward, so I continued down his body. There was a strip of hair running along the line down his stomach leading right to his groin. I found out later on that it's called a 'treasure trail'. I didn't neglect his navel by giving it a quick kiss and lick. When I finally got to his manhood, it was still stiff and looking right at me.

He showed me the delicacies of working a man's private area. I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock a few times before running it down its length. I made several passes along the stalk before stopping to look at it. There was no way I was going to fit that whole thing in my mouth; it had to be at least eight inches [20 cm] long and fairly thick.

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes, Master. What do I do now?"

"Slip it into your mouth," he coaxed.

"I thought of that, but…," I said apprehensively.

"But it's kind of big," he finished and I nodded. "Right now, you don't have to fit all of it in your mouth. Just get whatever you can. I'll show you what to do with the rest of it."

"Yes, Sir," I said, fairly relieved.

I inhaled deeply and aimed it at my mouth. When the head passed through my lips, I remember thinking that this wasn't so bad. It felt like having a soft hotdog go into my mouth. A hotdog that leaked from the tip. I continued to lower my head downward, trying to fit as much as I could into my oral cavity. I managed about three inches [7½ cm] or so before I began gagging.

"Mind the teeth, Alvin," he warned.

"Yes, Master," I answered back after pulling his cock out briefly.

From there, he showed me how to suck what cock was in my mouth while working the rest of it with my hand. His hips moved in time with my jerking motion and within a few minutes we got into a steady rhythm. Every so often the tip would hit the back of my throat and I would gag for a split second, but otherwise it wasn't absolutely horrible. There was a strong, musky smell too, but I tolerated it for the duration.

After several minutes, from my own experience, I could tell he was getting close to a climax. As he got closer, his hips began picking up speed and intensity. I held on as best as I could and kept stroking his cock until his body stiffened. He threw his head back, groaning in pleasure and I knew he'd finished. What I didn't expect was the semen shooting out of his dick. The thick liquid hit the back of my throat and I choked on it. Thinking for a moment that it was urine, I spit it out.

"I should have warned you about that, Alvin," he said, looking down his body at me.

"What was that, Master?" I asked. I could now see the stuff and knew it wasn't piss.

"There are several names for it, but the scientific name is semen."

He explained the purpose of it and told me the different names for the stuff.

"It tasted bad, Sir," I said, trying not to whine about it.

"It may have, Alvin, but you're going to have to get used to the taste," he said, snickering briefly. "You're also going to have to get used to swallowing it."

"Swallowing it?!" He gave me a glaring look. "Sir?" I finished.

"Better," he said, seemingly satisfied. "And, yes, swallowing it."

I ran a finger through it and brought it to my nose for another sniff. I wrinkled up my nose at it and he laughed again.

"But, not today," he said. "Right now, though, let's get you back to the room with the others."

"Yes, Sir."

We cleaned up, as I had a little of his jizm on my chest, and headed back. The next day was Friday. I'd made it the whole week and placed fifth. So far, that is. I figured the next day's tests were going to be easy, and I didn't know how things were going to go with the fight, but I felt pretty confident about not spending more time in the PR than was absolutely necessary.

I was right. Due to my putting in some extra time with the studies, the test was fairly easy and I scored in the upper nineties on both of them. On the firing range, Seth and I both scored very well with the handguns; we were now using .357 Magnums. Those things took a lot of time to learn to handle. The only thing about them that I didn't like was the clumsy way they had to be reloaded. I preferred the semi-automatics.

The test scores and firing range scores put me into a tie for fourth with Philip. Mike eked out a win over James. Jeff had a bad week with his trainer and ended up being in third. Alex was dead last, with no hope of getting out of it, and Ben was right above him. As Bull was still out, last places were tenth and eleventh.

"Today's fight," Jones started off with that afternoon, "is going to be challenging. In one group are numbers one through five and the other group is six through twelve." Those of us in the first group were fairly optimistic about our chances until Jones continued. "However, because of Alvin's discipline, he will have to go through this one without the use of his hands."

"Oh, great," James commented sarcastically.

"This is unfair," Leon protested.

"Get over it," Smith barked.

As the two groups separated, Jones had me walk over to him. A set of leather cuffs were locked onto my wrists and another set on my arms right above the elbows. My arms were pulled behind my back and then the cuffs were locked together. Because the bands on my elbows were linked, my chest stuck out more. I felt him attach something to my wrists, which a second later I found out was a thin leather strap, and it was pulled down and between my legs. Jones wrapped the strap tightly around my nuts.

I tested it by pulling my arms away from my back and my nuts hurt. There was no way I could use my arms for anything. I was going to be severely handicapped for this one. Basically, it was going to be four against six. As I made my way to my smaller group, I heard James talking to the others.

"I think Alvin should just stay in the back," he was saying.

"That would be a mistake," I told him.

"But-," he started.

"-I know I'm handicapped, James, but we're shorthanded already. I can at least keep someone busy for a while." He looked at me sceptically for a moment. "So, who's going up against who?"

"I'm taking on Scott," Leon said. "And Alex has Remmie. James wants Jeff and Ben."

"Who made this up?" I asked incredulously.

"James did."

"Wonderful."

"You got a better idea?" James asked, slightly perturbed.

"Well, since we did beat you last week, yes, I do."

"Alright, then let's hear it."

"Okay," I said, "let them commit."

"What?!" Mike asked.

"They have the numbers, but I think that if we let them commit to whatever they're going to do, we can see it and react to it. If they don't, then that's when we do."

"So, who do you think we should take on?"

"Let me keep Seth busy. James; you get Ben and, if they go for it, Remmie or Philip. Leon; take out Jeff; he's their biggest threat. Alex, keep Scott busy until help arrives. Mike should take on which ever one James doesn't handle; Philip or Remmie."

"You sure about this?" James asked.

"We don't have time to argue about it, James." I looked him square in the eye. "Mr. Jones is about to start this."

"Fine, but you'd better be right."

We separated ourselves from each other and got lined up. This time, though, things weren't so easy to see what they were about to do. I was sure Jeff had something to do about that. I went to the far right. Leon was right beside me, ready to assist when needed.

When Jones said go, no one moved. It was almost comical; all eleven of us just standing there, ready to fight, but no one doing anything about it. Finally, James made the mistake I really, really wished he hadn't. He stepped out towards them. From then on, things didn't go exactly according to plan. Not even close. Jeff smiled and came after him. It was on.

James, being James, thought he could handle him. Even though the previous week Jeff laid him out, James wanted another shot at the kid. It went badly. Ben came in my direction. Leon tried to step in front of him to guard me a little, but he didn't have the opportunity. Remmie and Philip began making his life difficult.

"You can't take me, Alvin," Ben challenged. He was goading me into attacking him. I wasn't falling for it. Being at a disadvantage already, I wasn't going to make the mistake of being even more at a disadvantage.

"Bet I can, Ben," I snapped back with. As we hurled challenges at each other, we began circling around.

While I concentrated on him, I saw what was happening to the others out of the corner of my eye. Alex was cornered by Seth, who'd discovered a newfound resolve now that Bull wasn't here for this. Leon was still struggling with Philip and Remmie, but holding his own fairly well.

"Then do something."

Scott had been taken out by Mike. But before Mike could do anything else, Jeff, having taken James out, again, jumped him.

"You first. Unless you can't beat up a guy that can't fight back."

"You're nothing more than talk, Alvin," he spat at me. He knew better, but he was still trying to egg me on.

"And you're nothing but a wuss." A word I'd heard one of the older kids use the previous winter.

"Don't you mean 'wimp'?"

"No; a wuss; part wimp, part pussy," I explained.

He was about to say something back, but stopped.

"You're stalling, aren't you?"

"And it's working," I said with a smile on my face.

He didn't buy into it any longer. He rushed my middle, and I wasn't able to get my legs up in time to stop him. I hit the ground on my back. Dazed, I kicked up as hard as I could. I did make contact, but as Ben had been going through the same weight training as me, he was tougher to hurt. It didn't bother him as much as I was hoping. I got a punch across my jaw for the weakness.

Ben nailed me again with a backhand to the same place. I got turned over onto my stomach, reeling from that last swing. He punched my side and I screamed.

"Hurts, don't it?" he bellowed. Another punch to the other side, eliciting another scream from me. "Either give up, or I keep hitting you, Alvin."

He hissed the last into my ear. Just as he was raising back up, I shot my head back towards him as hard as I could, connecting with his nose. As he screamed, I used the precious time to scramble out from under him. With a smooth kick, I nailed him hard in the face again, sending him flying backwards. I got up as quickly as I could, pulling slightly on the strap to my nuts, and kicked him as hard as I could right on his.

"Hurts, don't it?" I threw back at him.

I made to kick him again, but got bowled over by Philip. Leon was out, but so was Remmie. I landed on my side and tried to get out from under him as swiftly as I could, but he didn't let up. I didn't expect him to, actually. This was a fight, after all. After several more hits, I had to give up.

The others won the fight, naturally, with Jeff, Philip and Ben still in it. Officially, Ben never gave up and Jones never called it quits for him, so he was still in there. If things had gone onward, he would have been able to continue fighting.

Losing the fight gave us the demerit. Philip took fourth, sending me down to fifth for the week. Ben put a little more separation between himself and Alex in the points. Even if the results of the fight had reversed, Alex would still have been the loser for the week.

"Okay," Jones stated after lining us back up, "Alvin and Alex remain here, while the rest of you head to either the cafeteria or the common area."

The others were confused because I was staying and Ben was leaving. Under threat of electricity, they left. Collins led the others out of the room as Jones turned back to us.

"By now, I believe that both of you know how long you're going to be spending in there," he said, waiting for our nods. "Alex, you'll go with your trainer and Mr. Smith into the room on the left. Alvin, come with me."

We split up with Alex still questioning why I was there. Once inside the room, I looked around. It was significantly different than the last time I was here. It now resembled a medieval torture chamber.

Two chains dropped down from the ceiling. Several more chains were hanging from the walls. A pair of locks were resting close to the rings on the floor. There was a closed box next to the rings and a rubber suit was lying on top of the box. I took another of those deep breaths and walked to the centre of the room.

Jones grabbed the rubber suit as Powers stood in front of me. I lifted my leg and Jones ran one of the legs of the suit up it. The same was done with its twin. When both legs were covered, Powers removed my butt plug and before I could think about how good that would feel, Jones pulled out a dildo from the box.

"Punishment position, Alvin," Powers said.

"Yes, Master," I answered back.

I did as commanded, but I certainly didn't want to. None of the others had mentioned having a dildo shoved up their butts. I didn't know if it was because they didn't want to talk about it, or because it wasn't done to them. Either way, I was getting one.

Jones lined it up to my exposed anus and unceremoniously shoved it inside me. I winced and hissed at the violent intrusion to my innards. Powers had me stand back up to continue being suited up. They continued pulling the suit up and over my body. It fit tighter than a glove. The tightness of the suit kept the dildo planted inside me.

Once it was on and zipped up, only my hands, groin and head were exposed. The zipper was on the back, so a hole was in front for my hairless groin to be out. Mitts were slipped over my hands, causing them to curl up in on themselves. I tried straightening out my fingers, but it was impossible.

Leather cuffs were removed from the box. A set was put around my wrists, just above my elbows, ankles, just above my knees, and at the thighs. A belt went around my waist. A strange sort of hood was fit over my head, but pulled all the way down past my face. My collar was removed, but another one was put in its place and tightened down. This one was significantly thicker. It propped my head up to its limit where I couldn't turn my head in any direction. The hood that was just put on was pulled up through the collar, but still not put over my head completely.

The men went to the four corners of the room, and brought back chains to the middle. All four chains were attached to the new collar. Once attached, the chains were then tightened by both men pressing a button where a pulley took up the slack. I tried moving my head in any direction, but it stayed put.

My legs were then spread out to lock into the rings on the floor. They were spread out just a little wider than my shoulders. But now, they couldn't move any more than my neck could. More chains were brought over from the walls. First from the side walls. They were attached to the cuffs on my wrists, knees and thighs as well as to the belt around my waist. My arms were pulled straight out to my sides, to their limits. The next ones were from the front and back again. They were connected to the wrist, elbow, knee, and thigh cuffs. Two more were linked to the belt as well.

The buttons were pushed again, and I was stuck. In short, I was going nowhere fast. The only thing I could move now, was my head. But, not for long. Both men weaved their way through the maze of chains to get to me again. Upon arrival, Powers pulled out another dildo.

"Open your mouth," he said simply.

"Yes, Sir," I said, gulping.

Due to the collar, I had to rear back my head to open my mouth. But, once I did, he shoved the dildo inside. It wasn't very long, but thick. It was only long enough to touch the back of my throat and make it uncomfortable, but not enough to make me gag. The rubber hood was finally pulled over my entire head. The opening for it was pulled completely over to be zipped up under my chin.

I panicked, thinking that I was about to suffocate, but a second later, I felt a hand manoeuvre the mask around and I could breathe. A moment after, two small tubes were fit into my nose. I could breathe a lot easier, now. But, seeing, hearing, and breathing out of my mouth were out of the question. I felt something go over my ears, cutting every sound in the world completely out.

Something of a belt harness was fit around my head at the forehead, around the bottom of the jaw, and the back of the head. I could barely feel it, but they put links on the harness and afterward, I couldn't move even my head. I tried turning it in any direction; up, down, back, forward, to the left and right, but it was nothing doing.

I thought they were done. Nope. Something moved over my groin and then a warm, slick sensation engulfed my dick. The only other time I felt this was when Powers was giving me a blowjob. I wasn't foolish enough to believe that was going to happen. This was punishment, after all.

Once everything was in place, I wasn't touched again. I was left totally alone.

The tube that encased my dick began moving along its length. It wasn't painful, nor was it all pleasurable, either. It never picked up speed. I thought that eventually I would have an orgasm, but I never did. I tried in various ways to force it to make me cum, but every time I did, nothing would do it. As there was nothing I could do about it, I abandoned my attempts and just tried to busy myself with other things in my mind.

"One hundred bottles of beer on the wall…, one hundred bottles of beer…, take one down; pass it around…, ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall…," I began to sing to myself. Soon, I don't know when, I even began tapping my foot to the beat of the song.

After a time, my mind began to wander. And then began to, as Seth said, play tricks on me. I wondered if they had left me there. No; impossible. Then if something had happened to the others. No; even less possible. How long have I been here? How much longer do I have to go?

"Focus, Alvin, focus. Right. Where was I? Oh, yeah."

"Sixty-six bottles of beer on the wall…," I began again.

I made it to somewhere in the forties before I began to lose focus again. It was my stomach; I was hungry. I had only missed one meal so far, but missing this one was worse than the other as I had nothing distracting me. And I certainly didn't like the feeling. Three more weeks of this to go, too.

"Don't even think about that, yet, Alvin. Get back to the song. Right. Was it forty-six or forty-five? Doesn't matter; got plenty of time to add another beer to the wall."

"Forty-six bottles of beer on the wall…," I started again.

"I wonder what beer actually tastes like. Hope it's better than Mr. Power's semen. Ugh! And I have to learn to swallow that stuff?" I thought about it and almost began gagging with the short dildo in my mouth. "Put it out of your mind, Alvin. You don't want to die choking on your own vomit."

Through a great deal of effort, I refrained from vomiting on my thoughts. Even though the thought of swallowing semen didn't leave me totally, I worked to focus on other things.

"Like the song. Get back to your beer bottles. Right. I think it was thirty-one. Whatever; just sing, stupid." I stopped. I was now arguing with myself. There was a new one. "Thirty-one bottles of beer on the wall…"

I made it all the way down to one, finally.

"Now what?"

"One hundred bottles of beer on the wall…," I began again. Why not? What else did I have to do?

I made it through two full choruses before I lost complete interest in it. My mind began thinking about my parents. Of all the times to do so, why now?

"Why not now?" Good question.

I looked into my memory file and began sifting through all that I could remember about them. I was amazed that under these circumstances that I could remember more than ever before. I could even recall a smell that was one of my mother's perfumes. It smelled like flowers. I wondered if they thought about me and if they were alive if they'd be proud of me for doing what I was doing.

Tiredness set in some time later. My muscles that had been in the same place, for what had to have been hours, were getting sore. I pulled on the chains and got nowhere. I rolled my shoulders and it felt a little better, but offered no real relief. I tried shifting my fingers around in the glove, just for something else to do; no dice.

Then my backside began to become uncomfortable. I felt like I needed to shit.

"I wonder if I actually did that, if they'd have me lick it up like Remmie did with the piss?"

"No way; too gross."

I began bearing down, but made no progress with the sizable dildo stuck up there. I pushed even harder and got some gas to be pushed out. This caused me to laugh. And I couldn't stop for a while. Punch-drunk, I believe they call it.

I had no concept of how much time had passed. It felt like forever. My mind went back to my parents, but nothing new came up. I ran through a complete third chorus of the beer song, but with significantly less enthusiasm.

"Now what?"

"Just let your mind wander, I suppose."

I began thinking some of the craziest things. Wild animals, blue skies, space travel, television shows. Anything and everything to pass the time.

Along the lines somewhere, I began thinking I could use the chains to my advantage. I let my muscles go. The chains coming down from the ceiling that were attached to the head-harness were the only things supporting me. I felt like it was ripping my head off, so I stopped. I was back to the same thing after getting my first caning; can't go up, can't go down.

I freaked out a little bit somewhere through the night and tried everything I could to get out of the bonds. Of course it was useless, but I just couldn't take it any longer. I worked on settling myself back down.

"And this is the easiest one…"

"Oh, shut up; you're no help."

Then something touched me. I freaked out again, trying to get away from it. It grabbed me, holding me steady. Then it hit me; the night was over.

"One down, three to go…"

I hoped that I wouldn't have to contend with that voice every damn week.


	11. Next

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 10-Next

The first thing I did upon being free of that thing was to run around the room, feeling every part of my body. I didn't care that the dildo was still stuck up my ass, I needed to feel me. All of me.

"Are you finished, now, Alvin?" Jones asked once I'd settled down.

"Yes, Sir," I said, giggling.

"Good, then I need to take that thing out of your backside, please, so hold still."

I bent over to let him at the dildo. It made a "thwock" sound as it was eased out and the plug was reinserted. There was some stuff on it, but not too badly browned. He made me clean it off; gross. I was allowed to shower in a closed area and, after my collar was put back on my neck, re-join the others. They were having breakfast as I walked in.

"You doing okay?" Seth asked when I sat down.

"I'm okay," I said, with a certain degree of confidence. I saw James and got a little ticked off, but held it in check.

"So, it wasn't too bad?" Mike asked, suggestively.

"It was long and boring, but okay. I'm more concerned about next weeks' time."

"But, why'd you have to go in there, anyway?" James asked.

I looked at him and thought about not answering. Then, I reconsidered; there'd be another time and place for that discussion.

"I have to take the place of someone going into the PR."

"Because of the fight with Bull?" Leon asked. I nodded. "For how long?"

"Three more times and they get worse as it goes, too."

"How much worse?" Alex asked, getting a little scared.

"I dunno; how bad was your second time, Seth?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Alvin," he said bashfully.

"After everything that's happened, I think I'm owed an explanation. Now spill it."

"They put this big dick-thing up my butt, alright?" Simon growled at me.

"That's it?"

"Plus what they did the first week with the rubber suit and having me stand up the whole time. Why?"

"They already did that to me last night."

"Yeah, but you've already had that butt plug thing stuck up there," James suggested.

"Maybe that's why they did it this time," Alex threw in.

"But then the question remains; what about next week?"

The question hung in the air and none of us wanted to think about it; least of all me. Bull still hadn't returned from wherever he was, so the next few days had things pretty much the same as the previous week. On Monday, we got our third shot from the doctor, and by lunch that day, my dick was harder than a rock. I began wondering what was really in those shots she was giving us.

My lessons with Powers progressed from simple serving techniques to how to serve a dinner. I also continued to give him blowjobs each afternoon and by Wednesday, I was fairly used to the taste of his semen. Still didn't like it, but I was used to it. I got another caning that Wednesday for forgetting something.

As the fifth week blew through, our hair had grown back nicely. It was still fairly short, but we could now make out different colours. Mine and Alex's blond hair, along with Ben's red, were the ones that stood out the most. Remmie's blond hair had grown back more brown than blond. Leon's black curly hair was the subject of a few jokes, though.

"Hey, at least I can run through the jungles without my hair getting caught on anything," he boasted.

"So, THAT'S why blacks have curly hair; because of the jungles," I joked.

"Now you know."

Philip's black hair was also nice to see. I envied the way it made him look like Clark Kent. Jeff's Oriental black just laid there.

Also, the line that was on Jeff's neck before was back. As Friday morning was usually a morning of both anticipation and/or dread, but always filled with plenty of conversation, I let the matter pass, but made a mental note to ask later. Of course later would have to be the next day.

Scott had made a lot of significant progress with his weight. He was looking considerably slimmer. With his hair growing back also, he definitely looked more like a human and less like a bald pig. If I had to guess, I'd say that he'd lost about twenty pounds and grown about an inch or so. He was still having some problems in the school department, but at least he looked better.

That morning, Bull finally showed back up. His face still had some bruises to it, but they'd faded to some small splotches. They looked like small, purple birthmarks on his face. There was a small pink scar on his jawline, now. The whole place went quiet when he walked through the door to the cafeteria. He walked straight over to our table and stood directly in front of me.

"What do you want, Bullshit?" I asked. The whole table giggled with laughter. I wasn't amused, though. I still had three more sessions in the PR because of him.

"I'm sorry," he said, significantly more subdued.

"Sorry about what?" I knew what he was talking about, but I also knew it wasn't me he should be talking to.

"About what happened?"

"You mean two weeks ago when you were forcing Seth to suck your dick?" I asked, getting a little hot that he was coming to me. "That?"

"Yeah. That."

"Then it's not me you should be apologizing to, Bullshit." The others snickered again at the reuse of my new nickname for him, but I wasn't joining in.

He turned and saw Seth sitting on the other side of James. Seth had to get a hold of his giggles as Bull walked up to him. Bull got red-faced, but it wasn't from being angry. I wondered if he was doing this because Smith told him to do it. But he did apologize at any rate.

"No problem, Bullshit," Seth answered to another round of cackling. This nickname may just stick around longer than Edweirdo.

On this Friday, Seth and I tested on .44 Magnums, while everyone else was still having problems with nine-mils. As far as how the tests went, I did okay, maintaining a sixth place for the week. Ben, Jeff, Remmie, James, and Alex were all ahead of me. Philip was one point behind me. My main concern now was the fight that afternoon and how the teams would be divided up.

Jones spoke to us, solving that mystery very quickly.

"Today's teams are the same as last week's," he announced. There was some groaning from the right side, but it was quickly quelled. "As Edward's still recovering from his injuries, he won't be fighting. And, like last week, Seth will be without the use of his hands."

"Will you now listen to me?" I asked as I walked into the huddle after having my arms locked behind my back again. I was looking right at James.

"I don't think we have a chance no matter what we do, Alvin," James admitted.

"Yeah, only because last week worked out so well," Leon chided. The rest chuckled, but I was still looking at James.

"We need you; James, but we need you with us. Please?"

"Alright," he said, resignedly.

"Now, let's go over it again and try to make it happen," I said, getting into the small meeting.

I reminded them of what I said the previous Friday afternoon. To be perfectly honest, I thought James may have had a point, but I wasn't going to go down without a fight. Not this week, when I was in real danger of being in the PR for twenty-four hours.

We broke huddle again and separated. The other six didn't even bother to get together to talk. They were going to do the same thing they did last week. I saw it in Ben's eyes. He was coming after me. James was to my left this time, though.

The key to this plan working was Jeff being taken out. Fast! The rest of us could keep things going as long as Leon took him out as quickly as possible, we had a chance. When Jones started us up, there was no hesitation this time.

Ben came at me, but James got to him first and took him down with a quick punch to his stomach. Philip tried to do so also, but James swept his feet out from under him and I kneed him in the jaw as he was going down to the mat. I made one hard kick to Philip's side and he was begging for things to stop. I didn't bother to revel in my victory. Alex needed some help with Scott. Because the two were tangled up, Scott never saw me coming as I threw myself at the back of his knees. Unbalanced, he fell back and Alex pounded him right in the nuts with the back of his elbow. Scott gave up after that.

James had just handled Ben and turned his sole attention towards helping Leon with Jeff. He was bound and determined to get the kid. I was hoping that Leon could have taken him out by this time, but such wasn't the case. At least he had kept him busy till help arrived. I was doubly impressed to see that Mike was holding off both Seth and Remmie very well. I told Alex to go help him. He nodded and left.

Not really being able to help much, I stood back to see what was happening. If one of my teammates needed anything, then I would be there. It looked as if they were doing okay, though. Jeff was good; the kid was holding off both James and Leon very well. When the opportunity came to help, I took it. I swung my leg across to knock him down. However, he saw it coming and jumped over my leg. The move distracted him and the other two moved in to take advantage. It worked. Leon nailed the kid in the stomach and James got his jaw. The two of them were on him, punching every inch they could find until Jones called it.

Mike then nailed Remmie with a solid punch to the stomach, sending him to the mat for good. Alex had Seth in a full-nelson and the kid's face was turning blue. He didn't cry uncle until he saw that he was the last one standing.

"WE WON!" James screamed, jumping for joy.

Not only did we win, but we won without losing a single one of us. That was something to be extremely proud of. It didn't go according to plan, but we worked together and made it happen. I wished that I could have celebrated with them.

The points weren't enough to dethrone Ben and Jeff for the week, so they ended up taking first and second, respectively. And although Mike was on the winning team, he had a bad week with the studies and firing range. Plus, I heard that he'd given his trainer an attitude for something, receiving not only three demerits, but also twenty swats from the paddle. For that week, I took Scott's place in the PR.

Jones and Powers led me into the same room, while Nelson and Leon's trainer, Mr. Charles, took Mike to the other room.

"See you tomorrow, Alvin," he said encouragingly.

"You too, Mike," I answered. "Don't let it mess with your mind."

"Right."

I was suited up like the previous week with a few exceptions. One, the dildo that they shoved in my butt was metal and had a cord running from it. A small hole in the back of the suit allowed the cord to hang out. Second, the set of headphones that they were now using on me were wired, with the wire going up the chain to the roof. I was guessing that the new additions weren't for my health or comfort.

Once I was in place in the same fashion as before, I felt the headphones go over my ears, blocking the outside world completely. The dildo in my mouth was already irritating. The same unknown device encased my groin and the tube went along my cock. From there, I was now alone again.

"One hundred bottles of beer on the wall…," I began, but something of a shock shot through my anal muscles and jolted something inside me.

The metal dildo was alive! That thing shot out a volt of electricity. Now, I saw what was to happen in the next step. I didn't like it; not one little bit. Another one interrupted my evaluation of the first one. I grunted at the surprise of it. Each time caused my anal muscles to contract in spasms, gripping the metal shaft.

But the electricity had another effect; my dick got hard. And the machine that was on it began moving again. Unlike last time, though, it seemed to be more insistent in stroking me. It started coaxing my cock to feel what I felt when Powers was sucking it.

With both sides of my middle being stimulated simultaneously, the feelings built up to the climactic sensations as before. My whole body shook in pleasurable feelings. It felt great.

"Why would they want me to be feeling good? I thought this was a punishment?"

I let it go for the time being. I tried to get back to that stupid song, even with the electric volts shooting through my guts, but the machine massaging my dick wouldn't let me. It wasn't unpleasant. It was more distracting. The last time, the machine just seemed to massage, now it was trying to get me to climax again. I tried to ignore it, but the thing was insistent. My dick got hard again, whether I wanted it to or not and the machine continued. It was like I had no control over my own body.

Every so often, the dildo would shock my ass. I couldn't tell if they were exact intervals, but they continued steadily. Both devices continued stimulating both sides of me contrary to my own wishes. I came again sometime later, sending waves of pleasure through my preteen body. The milking machine wasn't through, though. Not by a long shot.

"Not again…," I complained as my dick began getting hard for a third time.

The intervals between my climaxes increased, but they began to change. On the third time I came, it hurt. It didn't hurt a lot, but there was a twinge of pain to it coming from my dick. The machine didn't stop. At this point, I didn't expect it to. The thing forced me to get hard again. It took longer as well, but the pain was significantly greater this time; so much so, that I screamed in frustration into the mask.

On the sixth orgasm, it was so painful, I was crying. My body was tired, exhausted, my ass and internal organs hurt and my dick was screaming for the thing to stop. This was torture. This was agony. This was suffering. It was beyond anything I could have imagined.

"And this is only the second level…"

"OH, SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

"Arguing with yourself again; that can't be good…"

"I said, 'SHUT THE FUCK UP'!"

My mind was being torn from my sanity, piece by piece. I cried at it.

I came a seventh time, excruciatingly. I remember screaming at the top of my lungs for that thing to stop. I was shocked, both anally and mentally, when it changed. The milking machine's rhythm changed to what it was the previous week. But if I thought the torment was over, I was wrong.

A sound began building in my ears. It started low, but soon it was a high-pitched whine shooting through my head. It reminded me of how Darth Vader tormented Chewbacca in the second movie. It would wax and wane in different pulses, but it never completely went away. Neither did the electric shock from the metal rod shoved up my butt. If time went slowly the previous week, it was crawling now.

Enough time passed and before my mind began seriously going on me, the sound waned out, but the milking machine changed back to the more serious tempo.

"Oh, God, not this again…"

I had another painful orgasm some time later. It seemed to take forever before I did, but it finally pushed me over the edge. The pain was agonizing. I was prepared for another round when it all stopped. The dildo was turned off and so was the sucking machine. The headphones were removed. It was over.

"I'll be here next week, though," I thought.


	12. Jeff

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 12 – Jeff

When I was free this time, I dropped to the ground; spent. I was taken to the doctor's office for a shot and then led back to the common room. I already felt better, but still tired. My body needed rest after an experience like I'd just had.

"Wow," James exclaimed after me telling them of my night.

"I wonder why they're being rougher on you, Alvin," Simon proposed.

"I think I know," James said, with a stern look. He wasn't looking at any of us; his stare went right to Bull sitting by himself in the corner.

Alex had told me that no one even looked in his direction the whole night, much less talked to him. The scorn they all felt went right to him. They weren't alone. Even those of Ben's little clique ostracized him. Jeff still seemed to want to be by himself and Scott was trying to work his way into our little group, which wasn't really happening very quickly. But no one, no one, was talking to Bull.

"Look, guys," I said, tiredly, "I'm going to catch a nap. Will one of you wake me up in a few hours, please?"

"I will," Alex offered.

I was out before I hit the cot. It seemed like merely seconds later when Alex crawled in and shook me awake. I didn't want to, but I got up. I knew that if I slept any longer, then I'd be paying for it that night. No matter how tired I was, I had to stay awake.

The day dragged on. I tried to keep busy by doing things like swimming or some television, but my body just wouldn't let me. When seven o'clock came around, I hit the showers and then bed. I was told the next morning that I slept through a terrible storm with even the power going out for a while. Typical; I always miss the good stuff.

A drastic change occurred that recovery day.

I woke up refreshed. I didn't know if it was from actually getting some sleep or the shot from the doctor, or both, but I felt infinitely better. I was the first one up and sitting down at the table. Even with the plug inside my butt, I felt better than ever. After I started on my breakfast, Jeff walked into the room. He had every single candy bar he'd won so far; thirty.

"For you," he said, laying them on the table. I was stunned beyond belief.

"What's this for?"

"For beating me on Friday," he said simply.

"Huh?"

He sat down at the table across from me.

"I've been watching you, Alvin," he started.

"You watch everyone, Jeff," I said, taking a mouthful of cereal.

"But, you're the one that sees things. You're the one that I've always been worried about competing against." I had to concede to that, as the feeling was completely mutual.

"So, what's the candy bars for?"

"I've been waiting for your team to beat me. You finally did by outsmarting me. You've earned them."

I figured out that he was waiting for someone to impress him. But there was something I was dying to know.

"You can keep the candy bars if you answer something for me," I proposed.

"What…?" he asked, seriously suspicious.

"Where's the red mark on your neck coming from?" Because it was still there.

His hand flew right to his neck and he got a frightened look on his face. It took a second or two before he did anything. When he did, it was nothing more than to turn from me and get up from the table.

"Enjoy the candy bars, Alvin," he said, walking towards the door.

"That's it?"

"I don't have to tell you anything, Alvin," he turned and hissed at me.

"You didn't have to give me the candy bars, either, but you did," I countered.

"Well, this time, I'm not going to do anything."

"You know, you're the strangest guy I've ever met; and I grew up with two brothers," I told him.

"But you understand me, don't you?" he asked, stopping and turning back towards me.

"Not totally," I admitted.

"We are both seen bad shit, Alvin," he said, letting his guard down for once.

"So?"

Jeff was about to answer when he heard something from the common area. Instead of continuing, he walked over to the door leading to the main workout area. With his head, he motioned for me to follow him. I ate my last bite of cereal and went over to him. When we got into the room, he didn't stop walking until he was in front of the left PR.

"I've spent too much time in one of those rooms, Jeff," I told him.

"If you want to hear this, then you'll follow me inside."

I grumbled, but followed. The room was very similar to the other one, but the second door of the room was to the left, as opposed to straight ahead like the other room. Otherwise, it was the same, with the box of goodies, chains on pulleys, and a rubber suit. The other things were all still there from the previous day's frivolities.

"Okay, so?" I prodded.

"I know you can keep things quiet, and I'm going to ask that you do that," he started. I nodded that I would. "Thank you.

"I was in an orphanage just like you. My parents were killed by a street gang in Los Angeles. After they were killed, the gang took me with them. I don't know how long I was with them, but every day they would beat me and force me to have sex with them. Sometimes they would even use electricity and other things, just to hurt me."

"At the beginning, I didn't like it, of course, but after a while…," he faded out. He seemed to gaze off into the past. As he did, his dick got hard, thinking about it.

"After a while, what?" I prompted, trying to get him back into the present.

"Oh. Right. After a while, I started to…kind of… like it."

"The sex?"

"Everything. Sometimes I even enjoyed them hitting me. My counsellor at the orphanage said that it happens to people who go through that type of thing. They begin to like being hit. I did, too."

He seemed ashamed of it. I didn't know what to do or what to say. I'd never come across anything like this. What I was doing with Powers was something for my job and future assignment. But to have this done simply for the sake of the pleasure of it; I was at a loss.

"I'm sorry," I said finally, and put a hand on his shoulder.

He got angry all of a sudden.

"Don't feel sorry for me, Alvin!" he almost bellowed. I was taken aback at this turn.

"I was just saying-"

"-well, don't, because I don't want your pity. Or your sympathy!"

Again, I was at a loss at what to do. He'd turned his back on me to dry his eyes. I just waited for him to make the next move. I wasn't here to piss him off.

"Look," he said, finally, "I just hate what's happened, that's all." He turned back to look at me and had a weak smile on his face. "Do you remember what happened with Mr. Davenport the first day?"

I nodded that I did. I also remembered James seeing that Jeff's dick was hard from it.

"Well, that night, I jacked off twice from remembering the pain of it. It was like I couldn't get hard from anything else but that. When we started with our trainers, Mr. Davenport told Mr. Porter, my trainer, what happened."

"And he's been shocking you with the collar?"

"Almost every day." His dick got even harder, thinking about it. "Sometimes he uses it until I jack off and finish from it."

"Ouch," I said, remembering my own encounters with the collar.

"Yeah," he said, smiling again. "But it also feels good. It's kind of hard to explain."

I got the idea, so I tried to steer the conversation away from all of this. It didn't go as I planned, but that's happened before.

"So, how did you get to the orphanage?"

"The cops arrested one of the street guys and he told them about me. They raided the place the next day. I told them what happened. After everything was over with, they put me there, but it was almost as bad."

"How so?"

"Some of the other kids there started doing the same thing to me. They said that if I told anyone what they were doing, they'd kill me. So, I didn't say anything. Plus, I found out that I really was beginning to like it. One day, a few weeks before Agent Jones came there, they had me downstairs and they beat pretty badly. When the head of the place found out about it, the other guys said that I asked them to do it."

"Did you?"

"Yeah," he said, bashfully, with his head down. This was a side of Jeff I'd not seen so far; unsure of himself. "I did."

Okay, that conversation didn't go the way I thought it would.

"Then what?"

"Agent Jones came there and talked to the head guy. Then he talked to me and we left the place."

"So, you still like being beat?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he said and then got a smirk. "But someone has to earn it, first."

"Was that an invitation?"

"And you think I've earned it?"

"I think so," he said with a serious look on his face.

"Well, what do you want me to do?"

"Follow me," he said.

The other door in this PR opened and what I saw shocked the living hell out of me. If I thought the PR looked like a medieval torture room, it looked mild in comparison to this one. All around the room, there were instruments of torture the likes I never thought possible.

"Don't tell me your trainer has been using all of these things on you?"

"Oh, no, of course not. Have you seen me with any marks?" I shook my head, no, that I hadn't. "He says that he wants to wait before getting really rough."

"Really rough; Pugh!"

I thought about it all while I looked at the room. I just wasn't sure about what he was asking. There were things in this room that confused me. But mainly, it was me that I had my doubts about.

"Not now, okay?" I said, turning back to him.

Working with Powers on my future role in all of this was one thing, but playing around with another of my classmates was something else. I just couldn't bring myself to hurt someone like this. Well, possibly Bull, but that wouldn't have been for sexual pleasure.

"Fair enough," he said, visibly disappointed, but understanding as well.

"Besides, I can't get into anything having to do with sex right now."

"Your night was bad?"

"Horrible."

We turned and left the room. I had a better understanding of Jeff, now. Everyone was busy with either eating or talking or both when we entered the cafeteria again, so no one really thought anything was out of the ordinary. Even the candy bars were right where I'd left them.

"Care to sit with us?" I asked, looking at him with a smirk.

"Think James will let me?"

"Well, since I've shown him up twice, now, I think he'll accept you if I say so. He may be the mouthpiece, but some of the others keep looking to me for help." Jeff nodded. "Oh, and you can keep your candy bars. I know you've earned them."

"Thanks," he said with a smile and came with me as we sat down with the others. He did share them with everyone in the room that morning, though. All thirty of them were gone by the end of dinner.

James didn't put up much of a fight when he joined us, and that kind of surprised me. The group was sort of solidifying into a band. We were beginning our sixth week and we were becoming almost a family in our own right.

With Bull back amongst us, we had twelve again for the week. I wondered how that would play out on Friday's fight. Probably have to take on all eleven of them with my arms behind my back or something equally ludicrous. Bull had problems with school, as he never was all that good with it, but missing two weeks didn't help matters. He was also way behind in training in self-defence and on the firing range.

"How much do you need to know to be cannon fodder, though?"

Talking to myself outside of the PR had its own problems. Just what I needed; another problem.

On Monday afternoon, though, after I sucked Powers's cock to completion, he exchanged my butt plug for a larger one. It hurt when it was going in, but just like the previous one, was okay once inside. I just couldn't think about how it would feel when I had to remove it for bathroom duties. I would get used to it, but in the meantime, it was going to hurt.

Throughout that week, Powers used the new butt plug like he did the old one. He would saw it back and forth, paying particular attention to it when it was at its widest point with my anal barrier. I had to continue holding still on all-fours till he was satisfied with the results.

Classes were classes, of course, with nothing new. The only thing that changed was the firing range. While the others caught up to us, Seth and I learned how to fire and hit a target without adjusting the sites on the gun. That little trick took weeks for us to learn.

In points that week, I was safe. I placed third without any problem. I'd impressed enough people, Powers included, so I'd earned some points along the way. The fight that Friday was a non-event. It was one-on-one, with me going up against Bull, without my hands again. He won, but I put up a good fight, though. I was sure the idea was Smith's. I wasn't too concerned; I'd scored enough points that losing the fight wasn't a big deal.

Everyone left for the cafeteria, excluding Bull and myself. This was going to be his second time in there.

"Don't let it mess with your mind, Bull," I suggested.

"Right; thanks, Alvin," he said with a small smile. It wasn't exactly a stab at friendship; more of a first plank in building a small bridge. He still wasn't too well liked because of all that had happened.

Jones and Powers led me into the PR without unclipping the leather cuffs. Nor did they remove the strap from the wrist cuffs leading to my nuts. When we walked in the room, I saw that all of the chains had been removed except for the chains dropping down from the ceiling and the ones in the corners. All around the room were what appeared to be nozzles.

"What the…?"

I was led to the middle again where the belt was wrapped around both my body and my arms behind my back. My arms were now even more secured. From there, the ankle, knee and thigh cuffs were put into place. Jones then took out two long rods and two shorter rods. The longer ones where clipped to the outside of the ankle cuffs to the belt around my waist and arms. An attachment in the middle clipped them onto the thigh cuffs. The shorter ones went on the inside and connected to the thigh cuffs. I felt like young Forrest Gump.

"If I could only run, now."

"Oh, shut up."

He attached another bar about thirty inches [75 cm] long to both ankle cuffs. Another one about half that size was attached to the knee cuffs. My legs were pretty much locked into place, but, just for good measure, he clipped them to the loops in the floor.

The chains were lowered from the ceiling and clipped to my sides at the belt; right where the outside bars were secured.

The electric collar was then removed and another one put in its place. The new one wasn't as bulky as the one from the last two weeks, but thicker than the one that was just removed. The chains from the corners of the room were brought over to me and clipped onto the collar.

Once everything was set, the two men left. No blindfold, no dildo in my mouth. I was about to question this, when the lights suddenly went out. Moments later, the first blast of water hit me; cold. It was colder than I'd ever felt. And it wasn't gentle. That first one hit me at chest-level with a hard, sustained stream. I had to turn my head a few times to keep the water from going up my nose. But it was the sheer force of the water that had me worried. It lasted longer than my bravado and eventually had me screaming. Then it stopped.

There was a moment's respite. Then the next barrage hit. This one was lower, battering my skin at the belly-level. It hit so hard that it seemed my internal organs were being pierced by hundreds of needles. I held on for as long as I could before I screamed again.

Another moment of rest and then the third one hit. This third one nailed my hips, groin, and butt. I screamed immediately and tried in vain to protect myself from the torrent. That one seemed to last the longest of the three before it stopped. I took in a deep breath as the water nozzles moved again. They started over at the chest and the cycle was repeated.

I don't know how long each one lasted, but each time it was long enough to cause severe pain. Something as simple as water was used to cause so much agony. That whole night I couldn't get any sleep or any real rest. The torture lasted longer than eternity. And, not that I could actually tell this, but by the time the lights turned back on, I was sobbing; begging for rest.


	13. 120

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 13- 120

"Just you wait till it happens to you, James," I challenged him after he scoffed at the water torture the next morning.

"At least you're clean," Leon chuckled, eliciting a few from the others.

"Cleaner that most niggers," I threw back at him.

"Well, that was original."

"Yeah," James started back up, "but with all that yelling, we figured they were beating the shit out of you or something."

"You heard that?" I asked, surprised.

"Couldn't help it."

"Great; just great." They must have thought I was a wimp. I got up and walked off, feeling a bit ashamed of myself.

I took a nap and Alex woke me up again a few hours later. Bull was returned to us that night, but I took no delight in his haggard appearance. James did, though. I crashed early again, looking forward to finishing these four weeks of punishment the following Friday.

As it usually does when something horrible looms ahead, time sped up that week. I was looking forward to it being the end of things, but also dreading the actual event. I had no idea what was coming up, but whatever it was, I was not going to like it. My stage four punishment was probably more intense than anyone else's stage twenty or something similar.

I maintained both my composure and grades that week to put me in third place by that morning. James was actually close to the bottom, but not in any real danger of going through the PR. No, the loser for week seven was Mike. He'd caught a slight cold that Tuesday that wasn't enough to knock him out for the duration, but was enough to screw with some of his skills.

We lined up for the fight that week and I got a surprise.

"Here are the groups for today's fight. Team one; numbers two, five, eight, ten, and twelve. Team two; three, six, seven, nine, and eleven. Numbers one and four will not be joining this one for different reasons. Also, numbers five and nine, step forward."

James and Bull stepped out. Jones turned them around and bound their arms behind their backs in similar fashion that they had done to mine. One notable difference, though; a belt was used to keep their arms tight against their bodies, as opposed to having their wrists tied to their balls.

"Oh, now, this'll be fun," James commented trying to move around.

"Hit them with your mouth, James; it's big enough," I taunted.

Giggling came from both camps as they'd already been split up. Mike and I sat down on the side. Apprehensive would've been putting it mildly. I was so nervous I was shaking. Being exempt from a fight meant something terrible was probably looming.

"You okay?" Mike asked as we sat there waiting for all of this to begin.

"Not really."

"Worried about afterward?"

All I did was nod once.

With James and Bull ready and the two teams seemingly so, Jones started the action. Mike and I watched as Simon almost totally took Bull's head off with a kick. Simon continued to hit him until he screamed out that he quit. Just for good measure, he decked him again before moving on to someone else. With very little real leadership, group two found themselves hopelessly out-matched. Team one only lost James, having to fight without his hands, to the contest. The other four were a little bruised, but survived.

Mike was led away to the right hand PR, while Jones and Powers led me to the remainder.

"See you tomorrow night, Alvin," he said before walking through the door.

"Yeah, maybe," I joked back, but was shaking a little.

As the three of us walked in the room, the only thing in there was a bench about eighteen inches [50 cm] wide and about three feet [90 cm] long. Beside it was the box of goodies. We took a position next to the bench.

The mitts were put on my hands first. Then, my arms were pulled back and tied as I expected. What I didn't expect was exactly how they were being tied. The wrist cuff on the left arm was locked to the elbow cuff of the right arm and vice-versa. A strap was locked around my forearms and pulled downward to go through my legs and then tightly bound to my nuts. Those nuts of mine were now getting used to being mistreated.

Jones then laid me face-down on the bench. I hissed at the pulling of the strap on my nuts, but otherwise was fine. My head and chin cleared the edge of it, while my legs were wrapped around the sides. The ankle cuffs were clipped to the loops in the floor. Another bar was clipped to the knee cuffs, running under the bench, to hold them in place, too.

My collar was removed and the collar from the previous two weeks was applied. A blindfold was then harnessed to my head so that literally everything was blotted out and was impossible to be removed. My whole head felt encased. The harness was linked down to the sides of the collar. It wasn't wide enough to blot out my hearing, so I could still hear everything going on around me.

I felt a link go to the collar. I raised my head and it moved, but the locking link kept it from going up too far. Two more locking mechanisms were attached to the elbow cuffs and then I knew they went to the side of the bench. It took zero imagination to figure that one out.

A few moments later, I heard the two of them walk away, a door open and close, and then stillness. Except for my own grunts and groans at trying to get a little comfortable before they really began torturing me, there was nothing but silence. Dead silence.

"This was it?"

"No way; it's got to be more than this."

No high pressure water sprays. No cold water. No electric dildos. No second dildo in my mouth. No posture collar. No nothing.

"Maybe they're messing with your mind."

"If I had a mind left…"

I snorted to myself and then just continued lying there, waiting. And waiting… The anticipation was killing me.

"Okay, nothing's happening, so don't make it worse by expecting anything."

"Right."

"If something does happen, then deal with it. Otherwise, just lie here."

"Like I can do anything else."

"Was that out loud?"

"I'm becoming Gollum. Won-der-ful."

I began counting the seconds. I did a little math and found out that there were 43,200 seconds in twelve hours. I wondered if I could count them all.

I had counted up to three hundred seconds when it happened. The door opened and someone came into the room. I sucked in my breath at the impending doom. Was it going to be water? Needles?

"Who's there?" I asked the person.

No answer was given but pain. The whistle and familiar strike of a cane awoke the pain sensors in my backside. I hissed, but the caning continued. The tenth strike was significantly harsher, eliciting a yelp from me. Remembering that my fellow classmates had heard last week's 'fun', I worked on keeping my voice down. I was determined to show them that I wasn't weak.

I heard the cane being set down somewhere and then a zipper. Footprints walked over to stand in front of me.

My head was jerked up by the harness encasing it and I felt a cock at my lips. I'd opened my mouth when the person yanked, but closed it at the touch. An explosion on the side of my head, followed by the echo of skin on skin slap, told me to do otherwise. I didn't. Another slap. Still nothing. A slap on the other side and I opened my mouth.

The cock was not Powers's. I knew his, and this one was smaller and shorter. It was still long enough to get to the back of my throat and gag me, though. To this person's credit, he backed off. He tried to get it down there again, but with the same results. Several more attempts were made by this man, with nothing changing. He was patient. I felt his other hand along the length of his shaft begin to stroke it while the head was past my lips.

His pace soon quickened and he came in my mouth. His fingers scooped up whatever dribbled out and I was forced to swallow it all. A zip later, and he was walking away. The door opened and closed again. I was left with the taste of cum on my tongue and a sore bottom and cheeks. And more quiet. The resounding quiet.

"Well, that was fun…"

"Oh, shut up."

To keep the little annoying voice out of my head, I began counting the seconds again. My total count went past thirty-six hundred before the door opened again. My count was interrupted.

"Here we go again."

Couldn't argue with that one. Ten more sharp strikes with the cane. I couldn't feel it at the time, but I knew there had to be several dark red lines back there. I hissed through them, but no loud yells. No weakness this week.

Footfalls and a zipper sound later, told me to open my mouth. I didn't bother arguing with this silent request. This one's cock was longer than the last man's. It wasn't thicker, but it was longer. He hit the back of my throat, gagging me again. But this one was insistent. He held my head to him and continued pushing.

I bit down at the uncomfortable feeling of having a man's cock being coerced down my throat. He growled and slapped my head hard. I dropped my jaw again. He let up a little, but then was back, pressing his cock more tenaciously into my gullet. I squirmed even more so as the cock continued to attempt to get past my resistance. Then, without warning, the head slipped through and past the gag reflex.

I didn't like it. The feeling of having a man's thick cock down my throat was severely uncomfortable. My eight year old throat just couldn't handle it. It felt like the fibres were being battered from the inside out.

Once he'd fully buried his cock into my oral cavity, I found that I couldn't breathe. I jerked at the uncomfortable feelings of oxygen deprivation. I was getting close to running out of air and then he pulled out far enough for me to suck in some air. Again, he buried my nose in his pubic hair as the invader reinserted itself. Back and forth he went, picking up speed along the way.

With finality, he came, sending his whole load down my oesophagus. He left it there as the round piece of meat began to weaken from use. When he finally pulled all the way out, he left a slight trail of semen along the path and on my lips.

Another zip later, he turned and left without anything to say.

I spit out whatever was in my mouth. His tasted even worse that Powers's cum.

"Didn't know that was possible."

"Piss off."

"Sure thing, Gollum."

After a few more minutes of spitting the taste out of my mouth, unsuccessfully, I began counting again. It was more difficult with a sore throat and significantly sorer backside, but I forced myself to do it. As I reached about thirty-two hundred counts, the door opened yet again.

"Ding! Ding! Round three!"

"You're beginning to annoy me…"

However annoying that little voice was becoming, it was right. I took ten more hits from the cane, with the last two eliciting yelps of pain. I wondered how things were looking back there right about then. Probably like ground beef.

Just like the previous two, this one also walked up for his complementary blowjob. Initial thoughts put his size at about the last ones. But was thicker; way thicker. How I was going to get this thing down my throat, I had no idea. He wasn't deterred, though. After snapping my head back with such ferocity that it popped, he crammed his cock inside. I had notable problems with swallowing his pole.

This one was a rape; plain and simple. He wasn't gentle, or patient. He wanted a warm mouth to fuck; nothing more. I was it. Time over time, he spent forcing my throat to accommodate his engorged cock. There was no respite. No break. No time-out. Just a hard throat-fuck. I tried turning different ways to make it easier on myself, but there was no easier way. I was stuck and had to take it however he was giving it.

With no warning whatsoever, he came down my throat, sending his seed into my belly. When done, he yanked it out, zipped up, and left me alone in the room again. But this time, I was crying. I spent the next several minutes doing nothing but that. I felt used, beaten, and worthless. No redeeming quality at all.

"That's not true, you know."

"Yeah, right."

The voice didn't answer back. I let it go. I just hung there in my pain and discomfort. And solitude.

The time passed too quickly before the next man walked into the room for his turn. My butt was subjected to ten extremely harsh whips with the cane. I yelped on the first one, yelled on the second, and screamed on the third. And the rest extracted the same volume of shrieking from me. On the tenth one, I collapsed, my head falling forward. He, of course, wasn't finished with me, yet.

My head was jerked up again, and another cock was forced down my throat. I gave up gauging the sizes, now. I just took it. No arguments, no fuss; just get it over with. He wasn't as brutal as the previous one, but made sure I swallowed his whole cock with every thrust. It was finally over with him sending his jizm into me as well.

As he left the room and me to my own thoughts, I did an inventory of my injuries. My whole ass was on fire from forty strikes of a cane. My throat was sore, but if I were to give it a rating, it wouldn't have come anywhere near as close as my backside. My arms ached from being in the same position for so long. Legs were sore from the same problem. But also, my nose hurt from so many groins nailing it while fucking my throat.

Clank! The door opened, interrupting my thoughts again. I began screaming from the cane on the fifth one. Every hit hurt. There had to be blood back there by now. It almost made me sick to think about that. My nice, smooth butt now bleeding from a sadistic caning. Another blowjob later, and he too left the room.

When the sixth man walked in the room, I groaned, knowing I was in for it. My throat was even more raw from screaming, but the cocks that tore into it didn't help, either. I was begging for him to stop after only three strikes. He didn't stop, of course, but that didn't stop me from pleading with him, either. This one did the same as the others; fucked my throat afterward.

When he was done with me, I figured he'd leave the room, but he didn't. That was unexpected. But, I wished that he had. He put some kind of cream on my butt cheeks and legs; everywhere the cane had connected. At first, it was kind of soothing, pleasant. I cooed at the relief it brought.

"Thank you for that," I said as I heard him walking away.

"Humph."

"That was rude."

"I agree-wait."

"What the fuck?" It was the first time I'd said it like that, but it certainly fit the situation.

The cream that he'd applied began to sting. The stinging changed into hurting. The hurting changed into agony.

"OH! GOD! WAIT! COME BACK! This hurts! Make it stop! AGH!" I screamed as loud as I could.

My dignity was gone. I didn't care what the others were thinking at that time. I was hurting and it was getting worse by the second. Whatever this cream was, it set every nerve on end. Everywhere it had been rubbed into and where the cane had struck was pure anguish.

For eternity upon eternity, I screamed, begged, pleaded, and howled for this to be over, but it all fell on deaf ears. No one came to my rescue. The next sound I heard was the next man walking in the room. I begged him to stop the pain of the cream, but all he did was line up next to me for ten more excruciating swipes with the cane.

I got through his oral rape of my throat, but barely. The whole time I felt like I was going to die from an overload of everything. Now, not only were different areas of my body going through a hellatious amount of pain, but my stomach was feeling bloated from all the semen that had been dumped into it.

Ten more swats from the cane and one more blowjob later, and I was vomiting up everything in my belly. The smell was even more nauseating. I vomited again. I just couldn't handle another one. But one more did come. Thankfully, this one mopped up what I threw up and then left me as alone as ever, but feeling even more shame about my situation. But then another was there. And yet another.

"Just get through this. You can make it."

The man that came in after that one, number eleven, delivered the now standard ten hits with cane. When he moved in front to take his turn with my mouth, his cock felt different, somehow. As I dutifully swallowed it, and had my nose in his crotch, even his pubic hair felt different. They were curly; like a hook-latch carpet. The revelation would have to wait till later. Without little resistance to slow him down, he began fucking my throat as the others had done.

Once finished, he walked out without a word as well. I was left with only thoughts, but this time it was an advantage. I thought about all that had happened. Eleven men. Pretty much the same intervals between them. These weren't random men; they were the trainers.

"That has to be it."

"Then that means that Powers is next."

"Of course."

When the door opened again and I heard the footfalls again, I smiled to myself.

"Hello, Master," I said, tiredly. I heard a dark chuckle.

"How long did it take you to figure this out, Alvin?"

"Mr. Charles, Sir," I answered truthfully.

"Well done, then. And for your reward…," he trailed off. His footfalls went to my side.

I gritted my teeth in expectation of the worst. Then, a tap. Another. Eight more taps. The whole time my butt was clenched, ready for a hard snap of the cane, but it never came. The ankle and knee cuffs were released. I groaned at the new sensation. The other cuffs were removed as well.

He picked me up from the bench and I collapsed down to my knees and then all-fours almost immediately upon standing to my feet. I felt his hand on my back, and his pants move as he knelt down beside me, but he made no threats to have me stand back up. I took in as much refreshing, free air as I could. Once I thought that I'd gained enough strength back, I reached toward him and felt his cock through the fabric of his pants. He wasn't hard, but he was firming up.

"One last one, Master? Is that why you're here?" I asked respectfully.

"Yes."

I nodded. My hand slid down as he sat back onto the floor. I moved towards him again, putting myself between his legs. Still sore, but determined, I maneuverer his pants down his legs to rest at his ankles. They didn't need to be totally removed for this. I didn't need my sight to know where his cock was located. I used my hands to carefully massage it to its full strength.

Having achieved this, I licked the stalk, like I know he enjoys, and put my lips to the tip. With over a month's training of sucking him off, I knew how he liked it and began engulfing it totally. This time, there was no hesitation; no gagging; no stopping. The whole thing was swallowed up by my abused throat.

It hurt going down, but after all that I'd been through that night, I wasn't about to fail this final test. I got the feeling that when Powers was done, it was over. I knew it, but had to go slow. He liked it slow and easy; reverent. As it was the longest of all of them, Mr. Charles included, it reached farther down my craw than any of the others. When my nose was once again embedded into his pubes, I felt like he had touched my stomach with that thing of his.

I worked him better than I'd ever worked him before. My whole oral cavity and beyond were at his disposal and usage. I took ages with this, making sure he enjoyed every minute of it. After the previous night, I knew that I was intended to be a slave boy; to be used at a master's discretion. My feelings and comfort matter to no one; probably not even to me. That was to be my job from now on.

No matter how much semen I'd swallowed before, I was determined to take every drop he was going to give me. A little bit slipped out of the corner of my mouth, but I captured it with my finger and licked it off.

When he was done, I sat back. Not on my butt, though. I was in a sort of adjusted kneeling position, with my butt hovering between my spread legs. My hands were flat on the floor between my thighs. I was now waiting for my master to speak.

"You want to see, Alvin?"

"Only if you wish it, Master," I answered. And I meant it.


	14. lucius

Back from hell

* * *

I don't own AATC and all that hoop la

I swear this is my last AATC fic but I really needed to write this

Thanks for being so understanding and not killing me so far

Warning this will get graphical and will contain Boy on Boy and some Man on boy action and some non-consensual action

A little OOC so don't hate me

* * *

Chapter 14 -Lucius

"Follow me," Powers told me.

"Yes, Master," I answered back.

He stood and pulled up his pants. I followed suit. I heard him turn and walk away from me.

"Master?" I asked, wondering what to do.

"Follow me, Alvin; there's nothing blocking your path."

"Yes, Sir," I answered. I turned towards him and threw out my hands like a blind person.

"Hands behind your back, Alvin," he said simply.

"Yes, Master," I responded and obeyed.

The door was opened and I walked towards the sound. Then his footsteps changed sound; he was in the corridor. I walked to him and stopped when I thought I was close enough without bumping into him. He started walking again and I followed again, but my shoulder hit the doorframe. I bounced off it, but kept my legs under me; barely.

We walked down the hall towards the office areas. He went through another door and turned right. We were headed for the doctor's office. I could tell from the route, even without my eyes. I heard Powers knock on the door and a female voice beckoned us to enter.

I wondered what time of the night it was and if she ever slept.

"You must be in love with me, Alvin," she said.

I had my head bowed at the time, and said nothing.

"Alvin?" Powers asked.

"Yes, Ma'am," I answered.

"Take him to the table, Hank," she said plainly.

"I can find it, Ma'am," I said, raising my head a little.

A pregnant silence filled the small space.

"Alright, then; go on," she said. I could tell there was some amusement to her voice.

Keeping my hands behind my back, minding my caning wounds, I used my feet to guide me towards the table. I remembered it being to the left upon initial entry to the office. A few minutes later, I felt something with my left foot. It turned out to be the small metal footstool used for stepping up onto the table.

"Very impressive," she said when I stopped.

"Agreed," I heard from Powers.

"Up on the table, Alvin," she said, not paying any attention to whether or not I answered her praise.

Using my hands to find the corners of the table, I climbed up and lay down on my stomach. It was a painful manoeuvre, but I did it without complaint. I heard two sets of feet come over to stand at the foot of the table. It was then that I noticed that the doctor had made no comment or exclamation concerning the canning marks; there had to be more than enough of them to see what had happened. Then I remembered her boy and her treatment of him.

"She's used to this type of thing," I said to myself, but got no answer back.

"Hold his legs, Hank," she said, and that was the last thing I really wanted to hear. Then I heard her coming closer to me.

"Alvin," she began, "there are two handles attached to the side of the table. Grab on to them."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said and reached over the edge. I misjudged the first time, but got them the second time. They were very close to the head of the table. They felt like handlebars to a bicycle.

"Lift your head and open your mouth, please," she commanded.

Again, I did as I was told and something hard was pushed into my mouth. It wasn't hard like metal or wood; more like hard rubber. It was like a ball of some sort. Then some straps from this thing were wrapped around my head and buckled in the back. I couldn't utter a word.

"Why all this?" Again, with no answer.

I felt a set of hands grab my ankles and hold them down to the table. Then some cream was put on my wounds. But, unlike the cream added in the PR, this one began burning the instant it touched my skin. I tensed up my muscles at the pain of it and bit down on the ball, but forced myself not to scream.

She applied lavish amounts to my wounded backside, turning the whole area into a cornucopia of screaming flesh. I held on to the handles, gritting through the worst of it, but if it didn't ease up, I was going to go out of my mind. When she was finished applying the salve, she backed away, leaving me to deal with the pain of it all.

Powers was there, continuing to hold on to my ankles, but I didn't need it. Several minutes passed and the pain began to lighten up. Soon, it was nothing more than an area of aching tissue. Once it eased up, I heard the doctor walk back over to me. A second later, a stinging pain in my arm and then liquid being pushed into the muscle.

"Good night, Alvin," was the last thing I heard from her.

I woke with the sun in my eyes, blinding me. I growled and pulled the pillow over my face, blocking out everything. I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I shook it off, but the person tapping seemed insistent. As I raised the pillow, I looked into the blue eyes of the doctor's boy. He had a smile on his face, but I was so surprised by his closeness that I jerked backward. It was then that I fully realized where I was.

I'd been lying on my side, due to my butt and legs still healing up. I stretched out my slim frame, but turned on my back. My wounded skin stung, but the pain wasn't unreasonable. However, I turned back to look at the bald boy. He had a tray with a bowl of soup with crackers and a drink.

"For me?" Okay, dumb question, but he nodded all the same.

Achingly, I turned back over to rest on my back. After setting a small stand across my lap, he set the tray of food there.

"Thank you," I said, smiling back. He nodded back to me, and remained silent. "Can you talk?" I asked, and he nodded, but still remained silent. Then it hit me. "You're not supposed to talk, right?"

Smiling, he shook his head, no.

"You're a slave?" He got a curious look on his face, like he didn't understand the question or the word.

"He's a boy, Alvin," the doctor said, walking into the room.

The boy simply moved away from me to stand by the desk.

"I'm sorry, doctor, I didn't mean to get him into trouble. I was just curious."

"Don't worry, Alvin, he won't be punished. I sent him in here to check on you. He didn't do anything wrong. If he'd spoken, then he would have, but as he didn't, there's no harm done."

I smiled at the boy. I was glad he wasn't going to get into trouble because of me. He seemed relieved as well.

"How do you feel, Alvin?" the doctor asked as she looked me over.

"I'm okay, Ma'am, just a little sore," I answered truthfully.

"Well, I'm not surprised; you've had quite an interesting time of it, the past few days," she commented with a smile.

"Few days?"

"Today's Sunday, Alvin," she said, nonplussed. "I've kept you sedated to get you over the worst of the pain.

"Oh, great," I said.

"Well, don't worry too much. You'll be spending the next few days here until I think you can handle your training a little better."

"Can't I go back now? I don't want to get behind in my studies."

"Where'd THAT come from?"

"I'll get the things you need for your studies in here. Right now, though, you need your rest."

"I feel fine, though," I said, trying to sound convincing.

"I'm sure you do, but you're still staying here."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said. I wasn't disappointed or anxious. I was just thinking of the boredom of the next few days. I was used to having eleven other guys around me at all times. Now, I had absolutely no one to talk to. Then an idea came to me.

"Would it be alright if 'he' stayed with me and talked to me?" I asked, nodding towards her boy.

"Him?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

She scrutinized the two of us for a moment and then answered.

"I suppose so." She turned towards the boy. "Alright, you may stay with Alvin and keep him company. You may even talk. But, if I need you, you are to come to me immediately. Understand?"

He nodded. He had a look on his face that showed his glee at the whole idea. It was as if she'd given him a plate full of cookies. She turned on her heel and left the room. As I watched her leave, I pushed the plate of food away from me. I was more interested in the boy than eating. Another shocker.

"You'd better eat, Alvin," he said. It almost shocked me out of my skin. He had the most beautiful, sing-song voice I'd ever heard. With that short sentence, I half-expected butterflies to appear in the room.

"What's wrong?" he asked, genuinely concerned. I shook my head to shake the cobwebs out of it.

"Oh, um, nothing. It's just you have a really nice voice. You should use it more often."

He got a bashful look on his face, but answered all the same.

"Miss doesn't like it. She says that boys are to-"

"-be seen and not heard," I said, interrupting him. We both giggled a little at that. "My master's been drilling that into my head almost every day."

"Agent Powers?"

"Yeah." I took a deep breath and then asked the one question that'd been burning through my mind since I first met him. "How'd you get here? I mean with the doctor."

"Eat, and I'll tell you," he suggested.

"Deal," I said and pulled the tray back to me.

"Well," he said, moving towards the bed, "Miss is really my aunt. She and my mom were sisters. And when my mom got pregnant, she had nowhere else to go but with Miss. When I was five or so, my mom got sick with cancer and died about a year later. Miss promised her that she would take care of me.

"And, ever since then, she has."

"What about your dad?" I asked between slurps of soup.

"My mom never told me about him, and I don't think Miss knows who he is. I don't think she likes men very much."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, she always says that boys aren't good for anything and men are worth even less."

"Is that why your 'thing' is so small?" I asked, nodding towards his half-incher [13 mm].

"I guess so," he said, shrugging. He didn't seem embarrassed about it. I guessed that to him, it was just the way things were. "Miss says that any boy that's hers doesn't get one."

"Wow," I commented, but didn't really mean to. "Does it bother you that it's so small?"

"Not really," he said, shrugging. "I just can't stand up when I pee."

We shared a giggle at that suggestion.

"She gives you shots, too?"

"Every other week," he said, nodding. "I know they're for doing that. And for my hair."

"So she doesn't shave it off?" I asked, remembering my own experience with the clippers.

"No, it never grows in, thanks to the shots. Miss says that she shouldn't have to spend the time and trouble to remove the hair."

"Do you miss it?" I asked, absentmindedly running my hand through my hair; now that it was back. I had just about two month's growth; it felt great, too. The blond waviness was about an inch [2½ cm] long, now.

"My hair or my thing?"

"Both." I said, snickering.

"I guess I miss both, but Miss does take care of me pretty well, so I can't complain about it."

"Do you have a name?"

"Of course, but Miss never uses it. It's Lucius."

I thought that was a wonderful name, but I kept that thought to myself. I finished my meal and he took the tray away. He said that he would be right back, but it took some time before he was. It gave me time to think about all he'd said. I guess I was lucky in that I knew my parents and could remember both of their faces. And in that I still had my dick.

"Can I do something, Alvin?"

"You can do anything you want, Lucius," I said, using his name for the first time.

"Can I measure your thing real quick?" Now that was a new one.

"Huh?"

"Yeah," he said and seemed bashful about it.

"Um, sure, I guess," I said, shrugging. Half the people in the world have a dick, I supposed that it would be okay for him to do something that harmless to mine. I was curious as to his reasons, though.

After getting a ruler, he came back over to me. I lowered down the covers to the bed and he lined up the ruler beside my boyhood. With his free hand, he pulled out the small piece of meat along the ruler.

"Three and a quarter inches [8¼ cm]," he declared. "About a half-inch [1¼ cm] growth in two months."

"Is that normal?" I asked, suddenly concerned.

"For this place, nothing's normal."

"Yeah, well, that's true," I agreed, thinking about all that I'd been through. "I was referring to my dick, though."

He snorted at the nickname for the body part.

"For the vitamins that Miss is injecting in you, yes, that's fairly normal."

"Just what is it?"

"I don't know the real name for it, but it's something to help you heal a little faster, and increase growth in your thing."

"Why's she doing that to me and that to you?" He knew what I meant.

"You're not her boy, I am. You're government property. And the government wants you to have a bigger dick."

"They do?" I asked and he nodded. "Why?"

"Who knows? But, I saw it with a boy named Jonathan that came through here last time. His got real big before they all left."

"They? Real big? What the fuck are they doing to us?"

"Okay, slow down, here, Lucius. Let's take this one at a time. This is not the first class?"

"No, I think this is the fourth class. It was started about six years ago."

"By who?"

"The last president, I think. I don't know, I wasn't here, then."

"The president knows?" That stunned me.

"I guess so; I don't know."

I took a deep breath. I was hoping that I could ask Powers about all that whenever he gets into a generous mood. But there were other questions that Lucius could answer for me.

"What about this growth thing in the shots," I said. "Are any of the others getting it?"

"I don't think so," he said, getting a little worried. I then realized that I was getting carried away with my own curiosity. He needed a friend and I was trying to pump him for information.

"I'm sorry, Lucius. I shouldn't ask you things like this."

"It's okay, Alvin, I just don't want to say anything that'll get Miss mad at me."

"I promise that I won't say anything to anyone. I just really want to know."

"Okay, go ahead and ask me, then," he seemed okay with it, then.

"Okay, then, just how big did this Jonathan's dick get?" I was immensely curious about this, now that he'd mentioned it.

"Over six inches [15 cm] when he left here, and Miss said that it'll continue to grow at least another two inches [5 cm] before he turns eighteen. She said that once the shots stop, the person's thing grows at its normal rate from where it is at that time. I think Jonathan was eleven when he left here, so who knows about how big yours will get."

"Maybe bigger than Powers's cock?"

It was something to think about, but later. I asked him about the previous class, but he said that he couldn't talk about them.

"They said that if other people knew about them, that their lives could be in danger."

"Then don't tell me. I don't want anyone to tell anyone else about me, so keep it to yourself, please."

Both of us were pleased with that arrangement.

We spent the rest of the day talking about ourselves and private lives and then played a few games. He was pretty good at chess. I was still learning the game, so he beat me every time. He showed me some tactics and how to do what with which piece at what times. How to attack and defend at the same time, too.

"Kind of like some of the training we're going through," I said to myself.

"I guess so," he said with a shrug.

"Teach me again," I said, eager to learn. This would give a significant edge over the others.

"Not tonight, Alvin," a voice with some real female authority behind it stated from the door. "You need your rest, now."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Lucius left for his little sleeping area for the night. The doctor checked everything on me to make sure I was normal and then left for the night as well. The problem was that I was not tired in the least. I tried lying back and getting some sleep, but it wasn't happening.

With all the lights out in the place, I laid there, thinking about all that Lucius had told me. At some point, I reached up for something to my side and realized something; my collar was gone. No shocking collar. An open doctor's door. A way out.

Remembering that sound travels and travels even more so at night, I carefully slipped out of bed. The floor was ice-cold, but I kept my mind on the opportunity. I padded quietly over to the door and gently tried the handle. It turned. The door opened and I glanced up and down the hallway. Vacant; perfect. I scooted along the side of the wall, opposite direction than the living quarters.

Half by luck and half by guess, I made it through the series of corridors to a large entry area. The room itself was a sort of pie-shape, with the outside being a curved wall and the other two were straight, running at 90 degrees of each other. Ahead was the outside glass wall, blocking my freedom. There were two glass doors. My last barrier. I ran as fast as I could for the door on the right.

"What're you doing?"

The voice was so loud and clear in my head that I stopped in my tracks and looked around the room. No one was there.

"Leaving? Come on, Alvin."

"What do you mean; 'come on'?" I cautiously asked an empty room.

"After all that you've gone through so far, you're just going to give up? Now?"

If the voice was not mine, I'd have thought someone had put a speaker in my head. As it was, I was just going crazy. Absolutely normal in a case like this.

"Look, I'm not going to let them do that to me again," I whispered back.

"Then, don't."

"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?"

No answer.

"Splendiferous."

I could just imagine if there were security cameras on the area right now. A lone eight-year-old standing bruised and naked in the middle of a CIA training facility talking to himself. All I needed now was a light-saber.

I went over to the door and laid my hands on the bar.

"Are you there? Are you watching?" I whispered again, this time significantly more sarcastic. "Are you listening? Hm?"

I looked outside to the woods beyond the parking lot. How far can I get out there on my own? Those woods do look inviting. I flexed my muscles to push against the bar, but stopped myself from going farther. Almost against my will, I let go of the door and turned back towards the hallway I'd just come through.

"Glad you decided to stay, Alvin," the outline of Agent Jones said.

I froze solid.

"Relax, Alvin, you're not in trouble," he said, chuckling.

"I would have been if I'd opened that door, though," I said, prodding.

"A lot of trouble," he said, nodding. "What kept you from doing it?"

"I'm not sure," I said, looking down at the floor. "I guess I really do want to do this. No matter what."

"Alvin," he said, kneeling down and grasping my biceps gently, "you have it inside you to be something special. Some of the others do too, but most certainly you. You've shown sparks of what you can become. Get past the small stuff; there's no telling where you'll go."

"Yes, Sir," I said, thinking about what he'd said.

"Now, let's get you back to your bed before the doctor finds out you're gone and sends out a search party for you."

"Mr. Jones?" I asked as we began walking back.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Smith was the third one in that room on Friday night, wasn't he?"

All Jones did was chuckle.


	15. Progress

Chapter Fourteen - Progress

Over the course of that eighth week, I spent a lot of time either playing chess with Lucius, or studying. The recovery was difficult, especially trying to keep an eight year old boy in the bed to rest. I got a little stir-crazy by Tuesday evening, so the doctor let me walk around a little after everyone had gone for the day.

She took me up front and I got to see the woods again from the inside of the room.

"I miss the trees, Ma'am," I said, wishing I was out in them.

"I'm sure you do," she said, smiling. "Being from a state that is so flushed with greenery, that it's natural that you'd miss it."

"Can I go out there? Please?"

"No. And don't try that 'puppy-dog' look on me; it won't work," she said seriously, but had an amused smirk on her face.

"Yes, Ma'am," I said and we walked away. It was nice to see the sun again, too. I wondered how long it would be before I saw it again.

On Thursday, I was released from the doctor. Jones gave me a collar, but it wasn't the original one. I looked at him in question.

"There's nothing shocking about this one, Alvin," he said with a smirk.

"Yes, Sir," I said, getting the joke. My neck was safe from any future electric shocks, now that I'd proven that I could be trusted. The others would have to earn theirs in their own time.

Jones locked it around my neck and we headed towards the common area. I met up with my classmates as they were getting ready for the day. Everyone greeted me warmly. Even Bull came up to me for a handshake.

"I know what the doctor's office is like, so it's kind of cool that you survived it."

"Thanks, Bull," I said and shook his hand.

"Man, you're butt's still purple," James exclaimed.

"If you don't like it, James, stop looking at it," I shot back. "Unless you like looking at other guys' butts…"

"You know I can put you right back into the doctor's office," he threatened as the others laughed at our playful banter.

"I've missed you, too, loudmouth," I said with a smirk. We hugged again and then the twelve of us headed into the cafeteria.

"Hey, you got a new collar," Alex stated.

"Yeah, the other one was broken last Friday," I lied. But I figured that the others would probably hound me about trying to escape and other such nonsense, so this way was going to be better.

"Welcome back, Alvin," Mr. Collins proclaimed as he walked into the cafeteria.

"Thank you, Sir," I said back to him.

We worked our way through the rest of the day. I got a little more caught up on my studies, got ready for the tests the next day, and worked back towards a perfect score on the firing range. Nelson didn't have me start anything new as I was pretty much so far ahead. I just had to continue working out how to fire accurately without the sites. Routhe and Davenport were both gracious with their workout sessions and allowed me to get back to normal gradually.

I did okay with the tests the next morning, and the other things were pretty much on track for recovery of keeping up with the others. Like Bull two weeks prior, I sat out on that week's fight. Jones divided up the teams fairly evenly, but the team with the six members won out.

The weekend brought its normal brand of tomfoolery and games. I took to playing chess against a computer. I took it slow, working with the tutorials and other things to help. The game was complicated, but by the weekend's end, I had bettered my knowledge of it.

That ninth week was my best week to date. I worked doubly hard to stay out of the PR. Every afternoon with the lessons that Powers had for me, I worked hard to master. He usually got two blowjobs from me; one at the beginning of the lesson and one at the end. Every night was spent playing at least one game of chess and then reviewing what I'd learned that day. I crashed hard in my bed each night and woke up refreshed each day, ready to begin a new one.

I was so far ahead of everyone else that week, that even if I was on the losing team for the fight, I'd still be in first place.

"So, this was what it felt like to be King. I could get used to this."

There was no answer, but I didn't care.

"Okay, this week's match is going to be different," Jones started off saying.

"Ain't that a surprise," James commented.

"One more comment like that, Hostetler, and you'll be fighting bound and blindfolded," Jones threatened.

"That might actually help him, Sir," I spouted off. More giggles from the others. "At least it couldn't hurt."

"Group one will be numbers one, three, five, and twelve. Everyone else is on team two."

Everyone was stunned at this.

"Any bright ideas?" James asked, looking in my direction as we huddled.

"Yeah; run like hell," I shot back with.

"I guess we can't surround them," Leon put in when the sniggers died down.

"The only thing I can come up with is," I started, "that we get into a circle and face outwards. Let them come to us.

"Let's break huddle and get into a line first. Leon and Jeff in the middle with James and me on the sides. When they come for us, James and I will fall back and get behind to watch your backs. See what happens from there."

"Good as plan as any," Jeff offered.

"Well, I ain't got anything," Leon stated flatly.

"I guess so," James said, not exactly committing his whole self to this plan.

"Bound to fail, but, like I said, we ain't got anything else," Leon voiced.

We broke up. Jeff and Leon took the middle. I was on the right with James on the far left. The other eight looked at us with a certain amount of delight. Only Seth and Alex seemed reluctant about all of this. That may work in our favour. Mike wanted to win; couldn't fault him for that.

"GO!"

As they came toward us, James and I fell back, to circle around to the other two's backs. Our move made the others stutter. Most of the others that is. Mike went right for Jeff. It was cooler than anything else I'd ever seen. Jeff jumped up and kicked him in the face with the back of his heel and came back down as if nothing was out of place.

"When this is over, you're going to have to show me that trick," I said while I was watching Alex and Scott circle around to my side.

While Mike was on the ground screaming about his nose, the rest of them were trying to figure out how to deal with us. Bull made a mad dash towards us, trying to 'bull' his way through. I reached back and pulled Jeff out of the way to let him through. He ended up landing on his face after tripping over Mike.

"Any other brilliant ideas, stupid?" Philip asked him as he got to his feet.

Mike was bleeding just too badly to continue. The other seven were still trying to work out the problem. The four of us just kept an eye on them, waiting. It actually looked like a sort of stalemate. Until Jeff did something very strange.

I felt him reach over and grab my hand. In one, smooth motion, he pulled it back to touch Leon's hand and then ran at Remmie and Scott. With a quick kick to Scott's side, he turned on Remmie with a punch to his face. The others were too stunned by the move to help their hapless comrades, but they were quickly recovering. Bull ran right at Jeff, but the kid dropped to the mat and punched upwards to the bigger preteen's unprotected groin. Bull just dropped straight to the ground, holding his jewels in pain; too much pain even to scream.

Philip recovered enough to go after Jeff, but by this time, Jeff was back on his feet and backing away from the others. Philip grabbed Scott, even though hurt, he was still able to fight, and took after him. That only left Alex, Simon and Ben for the three of us to deal with. I smiled a wicked smile at Alex.

The three of us broke away from each other and went after our intended targets. Leon went after Ben and James was on Seth. Alex blocked my first punch and countered with one of his own. I blocked it, but he brought a knee up to my unprepared stomach. I bowled over and he nailed my back with both of his fists balled up into one.

When I hit the ground, I rolled away; I needed some space. Alex had gotten better while I was still recovering.

"Not up for another round of PR, Alex?"

"You talk too much, Alvin," he said and swung in the direction of my face.

I may have slowed up a little, but I saw that one coming from miles away. I ducked under it and got his stomach. Another punch nailed his jaw, sending some blood onto the mat. He got in one more before I laid him out again. I was about to turn my attentions towards helping Jeff when Philip tackled me to the ground from my right. I heard a sickening pop from the joint at my left arm and then excruciating pain; I screamed at the top of my lungs.

I was so loud that all fighting stopped instantly.

"Get off him, Philip," I heard Jones tell him.

Philip rolled off me and Jones looked at the arm. I wasn't even the least bit tempted to do so. He felt around the shoulder and I screamed again when he touched a particularly painful spot.

"It looks dislocated, Alvin," he said casually.

"So, we go back to the doctor," I said through clenched teeth.

"At least he hasn't lost his sense of humour," James threw in.

I glared at him as Jones led me out of the area. I cradled my arm with my right hand as we went through the cafeteria, the common room, and then down the hall to the doctor's office.

"You again?" she asked as I walked in the room.

"I love you so much, doctor, I just can't stay away," I growled at her through the pain.

"Well, I think it's my boy that you really like," she said with a casual smirk.

I looked at Lucius, but he was trying not to look at me. I didn't know why. The doctor led me to the x-ray room again and had me lie down on the machine. A few agonizing seconds later, and it was over.

"Is your boy in trouble, Ma'am?" I asked.

"No; why?"

"He wouldn't look at me as I came in the room."

"Oh. It's probably that he likes you, too. He probably didn't like to see you in pain, or your shoulder in the shape that it was in."

"Oh. Well, that's good."

The pictures showed that Jones was right; dislocated shoulder. She brought me into her office and had me sit on the table. Lucius was white.

"Okay," she said, starting off, "there's two ways to handle this. One, I can pop it back into place. It'll be painful, but you'll be able to use it in a few days."

I didn't like the sound of that one; especially the pain part.

"What's the second way?"

"We cut the arm off."

For a split second, I thought she was serious.

"Door number one, please," I retorted. "And you might want your boy to leave; he looks like he's ready to puke."

It was true, Lucius was turning greener by the minute.

"Go!" she said, pointing out of the room. He didn't need a second invitation. Seconds later, he was in the toilet vomiting up his lunch. The doctor sighed. "I'd forgotten he's got a fairly weak stomach for this type of thing.

"Yeah; so do I."

"Alright," she said, turning business-like, "I'm going to pop it back into place, but I need you to try and relax. If you don't, it may take more than once to do it."

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, dreading either outcome.

She had me grip the handle on the bed with my good hand. She put one hand under my arm right inside the pit.

"On the count of three. Ready?" she asked and I nodded. "One…, two…," and all of a sudden, she yanked. Hard!

A horrible muffled, grinding sound was heard as the ball slipped back into the socket of the shoulder. Meanwhile, I screamed louder than I ever have in my life; including that horrible weekend with the caning. The pain was totally unbearable.

"What happened to 'three'?" I gasped, pounding the table with my free hand.

"Oh, were we supposed to go on 'three'?"

I said a silent curse for her that night when I went to bed. I hoped God was listening.

She put the arm into a sling and sent me away with some meds for the pain. I took the pills right after dinner. Thanks to the tackle, our smaller group lost, but they only had two surviving members left. It was Leon that fell last, from what I heard. The meds made me sleepy and I turned in early.

The next day I got my reward for being first for the week; twelve bars of candy. I shared with everyone that day, although I had to wait for Remmie to get out of the PR that evening. Bull had been in there for the shortened time.

It took a whole two weeks for my arm to heal properly. Over that time, I was exempt from weights, self-defence training, and Friday afternoon fights. I still had to run and swim, though. At least do them as best as I could.

"I know you only did it to get out of the fights, Alvin," James suggested one afternoon.

"Oh, yeah, that's why I always get hurt; to get out of things like that. And because I so enjoy the fucking pain."

I took a quick glance to Jeff and he sort of smirked, but it was a quick one.

Weapons training had moved on to rifles. Thankfully, it didn't begin until the second week of my medical profile. As I was right handed, I could do it. My left hand, healing, but still sore, only guided the weapon. It took all week before I was able to handle it well enough to make a very tight shot group in the target.

At the start of the twelfth week, Nelson wasn't there; Seth's trainer was standing there waiting for us.

"Good afternoon, boys," he said with a fairly nice smile. "I'm Mr. Nash. Starting this week, you're going to begin a live-fire range to shoot at moving targets. Turn and follow me."

He was facing to the left, so I was last in line as Jeff took the lead. Nash led us through the door next to our classroom. There was a short hallway and then it opened up to an outside range. Every one of us smiled and took in the summer air. It smelled great. Nash had us line up against the wall that faced down the range.

"Okay," he began, "as you can see, there are different targets along the way. Some of them are friendlies, and some are the enemies. Simple; shoot the enemies."

"That makes sense," James commented.

"How can you tell the friendlies from the enemies, Sir?" I asked.

"Good question, Alvin," he said. "The enemies for these exercises will basically look like thugs."

"Oh, so you have pictures of Bull up there?" James asked.

He rolled around on the ground in pain for several minutes for that one. I was expecting a sarcastic remark from him a lot earlier than that, actually. But, Nash was teaching us something else that was dangerous. We had to take this seriously.

"One more remark like that, Hostetler, and you'll be spending a week in the punishment room. Got it?" Nash had gotten into James's face as he growled at him.

"Yes, Sir," James answered, recovering.

"Now, what's the one rule on firing ranges?"

"Always keep the gun pointed down range," we all chorused.

"Exactly. I'm going to show you how you do things on this range."

He grabbed a 9mil, a pair of protective sunglasses and turned around. The gun was in his right hand, supported by his left and aimed straight upwards. As he walked down the range, a target flipped out from behind a wall and Nash fired, hitting the target in the head. From there, he went back to his walking pose. Targets flew out at different intervals. Some of them he shot, others he let alone.

When he was done, he gave the 'all-clear' sign, and walked back, pulling the mag from the pistol grip.

"You're first, Alvin," he said, handing me the gun.

I nodded and took it from him. He also handed me a belt with two mags on it. I walked forward and loaded the weapon with one of the magazines. I pulled the slide back to load it and walked onward. The first target flipped out and I turned. I was about to fire, but saw that it was a little girl, so I stopped. They'd changed the course. The second was a thug that did look a lot like Bull. I fired, but it went to the right; I'd pulled the gun instead of squeezing it. I fired again, hitting it properly.

By the end of that course, I'd had to use the second magazine, about half way down. I gave the sign and walked back.

"Not bad, Alvin," he said, fairly impressed.

I nodded, but inside, I was wondering which one he was during my fourth Friday event.

The others took their turns. Only Seth outscored me; by one bullet. I made a mental note to do better the next time. James did the worst, by finishing the course and running out of bullets with two 'enemy' targets left.

For that week, we were out there two other times. I improved by Friday to have to use only one round from the second clip. Concerning points, Seth and I tied for second that week. I was curious to see how they were going to handle that one. Leon took first, but we still were unsure how to handle number two spot.

"The two of you will fight it out," Jones said. We'd just gotten done with one fight; I wasn't in the mood for a second one.

"Let Seth have it, Sir," I said, "I've won quite a few weeks, so he can have it."

"Nice try, Alvin," Jones replied, "but that won't do. Fight, and if I see either of you not doing your best, you'll be taking number twelve's spot in the punishment room."

Jeff had had a really bad time of it that week and was headed for the PR for the first time. Simon and I squared off, gauging the other. Neither of us were all that enthusiastic about this, but I was damned if I was going to spend any more time in that appalling room. The thing was, Simon was getting better.

We'd been there for three months, now, and Seth had improved considerably over the course of those twelve weeks. He wasn't the same kid that was shaking after coming out of the PR the second time. This wasn't going to be easy.

The clash lasted for over ten minutes, with Seth coming out the victor. I'd made a mistake and he took advantage.

"I'll get you the next time," I told him while wiping the blood off my chin.

"We'll see, Alvin," he said with a smile and a hand out to help me up.

The weekend was painfully normal; as normal could be in a place like that.

Now, up to this point, my sexual training with Powers had only been about blowjobs and some lashes from canes and straps. After the tenth week, he'd bumped up the size of the butt plug again. At the beginning of the thirteenth week, I got my dick measured again, and it was marked at just at three and a half inches [9 cm]. But, other than those few things, there was nothing else.

Other training had included specifics in dinner serving, manservant duties, and the like. I'd learned my lessons very well. I did them as instructed, but I just didn't feel that I was making any real progress. It was like I was just going through the motions and not making them a part of my personality.

Things had to progress, though, and that Monday, they did. The fourteenth week of my training was a week I'll never forget.


End file.
